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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902797">Steambreather</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/radagastcar/pseuds/radagastcar'>radagastcar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Heathens Saga [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avenged Sevenfold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Band Fic, Comedy, Drama, F/M, Original Characters - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:49:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>41,176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/radagastcar/pseuds/radagastcar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After just over half a year of dating, the illustrious Synyster Gates - Brian Haner, Jr. - seems to have convinced up-and-coming metal guitarist Findlay O'Shaughnessy that he's no flight risk. That doesn't mean that theirs is an easy relationship. The guitarists must overcome distance and tensions within their own bands to stay together.</p><p>It's just one thing after another for the guitarists - and Findlay can never be sure if Brian will be there for her after each setback, regardless of whatever sweet nothings the black-haired man whispers in her ear.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brian Haner/OC, Synyster Gates/OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Heathens Saga [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>NOTE: This story was originally posted to Mibba in 2017 to keep track of my Camp NaNo '17 project. It's going to be riddled with inaccuracies - that's the nature of NaNo writing - and some awkward time jumps.</p><p>DISCLAIMER: This story contains sexually explicit and sensitive ("triggering") content, excessive swearing and the occasional Oxford comma. Read at your own discretion.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sheets hit Finn in the shoulder, drawing her out of her revelry - or lack thereof - on the couch. Angrily, she rounded on Tor, intent on giving her twin the rough side of her tongue, but paused, holding the wadded laundry in her hands. They had taken her sheets as evidence, and she had been forced to pull out a spare set to put on the bed she’d probably refuse to sleep on.</p><p>At least having a millionaire rock star visit their house - no matter how well Finn was acquainted with the man - had driven Tor into a cleaning frenzy of sorts, and he managed to pull his twin in with him. It was a welcome distraction after a particularly difficult shower that had left her feeling raw and on edge.</p><p>It was strange, the distractions, while she knew that there was a warrant out for her band mate’s arrest. An officer had called her brother while she was in the shower to let them know.</p><p>Max lay on their couch with his legs in Finn’s lap, staring in wonder at her purply face. None of them had thought that the usually kind-hearted drummer had a mean streak so wide, but the evidence was there on her face and, apparently, down at the station.</p><p>“When does Brian land?” Max asked as the petite grey-haired guitarist pushed his legs off her lap so she could dress her bed with her brother. “Are you having anyone else over?”</p><p>“This isn't a fucking party, Max,” Tor snapped, immediately sighing as he apologized. “I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little on edge.”</p><p>“How could any of us have known?” The bassist asked, sitting up with his feet tucked underneath him.</p><p>“Does that make it any better?”</p><p>Finn chose to remain quiet as she dressed the bed, glancing around at her pristine bedroom. She had always taken pride in their apartment for looking like something out of a sitcom - appropriately lofty and edgy, functional and quirky with wood floors and brick walls - but now she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her in it the night before.</p><p>“I don't know when Haner’s getting here. But he's gonna have to cab. I'm not leaving Finn alone tonight.”</p><p>“I can take your car and -”</p><p>“No!!” The reply was in unison from the twins, both staring wild-eyed at the bassist. He was possibly the worst driver in Boston - lead footed with no depth perception or regard for rules of the road.</p><p>“He knows to cab.” Finn said finally, smoothing her comforter over the bed. “You can grab me liquor though. I think I deserve a big drink.”</p><p>“You got it, boss.” The tall man rocketed to his feet and saluted with a sloppy grin. “What do you want?”</p><p>“I want grapefruit vodka, sprite and as much weed as you can get me.”</p><p>“Oh yeah? Been a long time for you, Finn.” Max spoke over Tor’s obvious shock, his eyebrows raised almost to his curly hairline.</p><p>“You even have a piece?” Her brother asked, throwing her freshly re-cased pillows at the top of her bed before he followed her out to the living room. Max stood with his arms open and she let herself fall into them, wrapping hers around his chest. It was painful, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, but comforting, so she let him stroke her hair. They had been friends since childhood, and she knew what Jay had done hurt him, too.</p><p>“I'll get you whatever you want, Finn, but I don't want you to -”</p><p>“Self medicate? Hell Max. If I were gonna do that I'd ask for something bigger.”</p><p>Max ruffled her hair again and let her go, pulling toward the door. He pulled his jacket off the peg by the door on his way out.</p><p>“I'll be back.”</p><p>The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Tor to stare at his sister across the apartment incredulously.</p><p>“I can't take you seriously at the moment,” He murmured, as she crossed to the fire escape for a cigarette.</p><p>“Whys that? Because our drummer smashed my fucking face up? Because I've got his fucking handprints on my neck?” Her voice was much raspier than normal as she fired at her twin, crawling through the window into the brisk spring chill. Damn, she wished they hadn't taken Matt's flannel. “I'm sorry, Tor. I shouldn't shout at you.”</p><p>“Finn. Don't apologize. I've been waiting for something out of you all fucking day.” She lit a cigarette, staring at her brother quietly.</p><p>“What does this mean for the Heathens?” Finn breathed in deeply, passing her brother the pack. He set it down on the windowsill, staring at his sister. “What happens when they find Jay?” She leaned her head back against the railing, unable to stare at her twin any more. “What do I say to Brian?”</p><p>“Oh, Finn…”</p><p>As Tor started to climb out the door, his phone rang - he settled for placing his hand on her bare foot before he turned and retreated into the apartment for his phone.</p><p>“O’Shaughnessey,” He paused, pacing in the living room. “No, this is her brother, Toric. Yes, she's here. May I ask the matter of the call?” He sounded awfully official as he walked back over to the window, waving her in.</p><p>“This is Findlay,” She took the phone through the window, smoking as she waited for the answer.</p><p>“This is Sergeant Millsaps, Boston PD. We have a suspect here we'd like you to identify. Can you come down to the station?”</p><p>“Now?” She chucked her cigarette into the alleyway and climbed down into the apartment.</p><p>“As quick as you'd like. Sooner is better - I can get my guys back on the street if we don't got him.” Millsaps accent was thick Southie, and on a normal day she would have giggled.</p><p>“Ok, we’ll head down now.” Finn hung up and tossed the phone back to her brother, who practically glared at her as he waited for information. She brushed past him into her bedroom to change.</p><p>“Obviously, that's the police. And they want me to drag my sorry ass down to the station to identify a suspect. He said suspects.” She exchanged her leggings for real pants, pulling them on painfully before she yanked socks over her toes.</p><p>“Do you want me to take you?”</p><p>“That would be ideal. I can't see out my left eye,”</p><p>Toric nodded grimly and sent out a few rapid-fire texts.</p><p>“What're you doing?”</p><p>“Telling Max and Brian where we'll be in case we're not back in a while. Max can get in, but Haner can't.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Embarrassed, Finn hid her face in her brother’s chest to hide her tears, clutching his flannel to her bruised face.</p><p>“You've got him. That's Jay.”</p><p>“If you'll excuse me, sir, we’ll need your girlfriend to tell us which one he is.”</p><p>Frowning, Finn scrubbed her cheeks as she turned to look at the five men in the lineup before her. She ignored the quip about being her brother’s girlfriend, noting that Jay’s glare was palpable, angry. Like for whatever fucking reason he didn't belong in the lineup. She felt sick to her stomach.</p><p>“It’s him. Four. That's Jay.”</p><p>“That's your rapist?”</p><p>The grey-haired guitarist bit back a quip - as she had when the cop had called her brother her boyfriend, and nodded.</p><p>“Based on the evidence, this will probably be a pretty open and shut case but you might want to get yourself a lawyer, sweetie. You don't exactly look like a sympathetic victim.”</p><p>Finn turned to her brother, her jaw clenched painfully. Her twin’s face mirrored her own, his fists taught by his sides.</p><p>“Is that all, sir?”</p><p>“Kid, I'm just making sure you know what you're up against. You'll probably get a call in a week regarding a court date. We’ll book four, one James Carter Friedman. You're free to go.”</p><p>Findlay grunted her thanks and pulled her brother out of the station, taking his cell phone from him as it started to ring. It wasn't hard to hold back her tears while she walked through the bullpen with a phone in hand - her eyes had started to hurt every time she started to cry.</p><p>“O’Shaughnessey,” Tor let his heavy hand settle on her shoulder as she pulled a cigarette free from her pack.</p><p>“Babe.”</p><p>“Bri… are you here?”</p><p>“Just got my bag. Do I get a cab?”</p><p>“No, Tor and I are at the station. We can get you.” She looked up at her brother, who nodded and guided her to the car.</p><p>“Ok, I'll wait. I'm at the Virgin gate.” If it were a normal day, Finn would have made a childish joke and snorted a laugh but instead she just nodded.</p><p>“We’all be over there in probably twenty minutes.”</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>“I love you too.” She hung up and handed Toric the phone as she got into the car. “Fuck I didn't want to see him in public. Not like this.”</p><p>“We’ll minimize that. You said twenty minutes?”</p><p>She realized her mistake as he floored it out of the parking lot, pushing the little car as hard as he could, weaving in and out of traffic like a native. Which they practically were. Finn swore, holding on to the “oh shit grip” as tightly as she could while he weaved, her seatbelt locked.</p><p>“Fucking hell, Tor, slow down!! I need your phone! Shit!!” She managed through her laughter as her brother tore through traffic. It felt good to laugh, truthfully, even if it hurt her bruised sides. She managed to alert Brian to their arrival time as they screamed through town, towards Logan.</p><p>Brian waited with a cigarette at the terminal, his hood up, with a huge bag that Tor hopped out to help him with. As much as she wanted to jump out of the car and into his arms, Finn managed to stay in her seat, reaching her arms over the back for his hands. The ten minute drive home was silent and almost tense, and the grey-haired guitarist shot up the stairs to avoid seeing her… boyfriend? … in the dim light of the street lamps.</p><p>That didn't make anything less traumatic when he got inside. Tor made a beeline for Max in the kitchen to make drinks, as Haner held his arms open for the petite guitarist.</p><p>“Come here, little thing. Can I hold you?”</p><p>“Gently,” She didn't pull her hood back as she settled into his arms, letting the deep shadow hide her face for as long as possible. His curiosity and concern didn't let her hide long - Brian's fingers wrapped around the edge of the hoodie, drawing it over her head and down over her shoulders.</p><p>He didn't say anything, just sucked in a gasp between his bared teeth as he held her bruised face between his calloused palms.</p><p>Finn knew what he was seeing - a left eye almost swollen shut, a puffed up right cheek, a split lip. The clear finger marks under her chin. As tears began to well in her smoky eyes, she turned away, scrubbing at her bruised cheeks with the sleeves of her hoodie.</p><p>“I could kill him,” His breath was quiet - not a threat, but a frank statement. “I would kill him,”</p><p>For a moment, as she turned back to him, she could tell he meant if. If her drummer had been there in that moment, he would have been dead. Toric had said much the same. So had Max. Each had meant it, no matter how close they had been to the drummer. But Haner’s quiet threat seemed much more serious. She reached for his suitcase instead of his hands, pulling it into her bedroom. Toric and Max talked quietly as she closed the door.</p><p>“Finn,” Brian shed his sweatshirt - an Anthrax number with their new logo, Finn noted - on top of the suitcase, ignoring the opportunity to explore her bedroom and instead staring at his girlfriend in disbelief.</p><p>“I know. All of the questions.” She didn't fall into his arms again, searching for the leggings she had changed out of to go to the station. She tossed them on the freshly-made bed and slipped the hoodie from around her shoulders as she kicked off her shoes.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Two birds. One stone. I need to change and you want to see how bad it is.” Her statement was frank as she padded to her dresser, searching out a tank top and a bralette that would be gentle on her sides.</p><p>Brian leaned against the door jamb, his arms crossed. His fingers were dug hard into his tattooed arms, Finn noted, as if he were having a hard time controlling himself as she stripped. Absently, she wondered what he was trying to control.</p><p>“Fucking… Findlay, Jesus Christ.”</p><p>She knew what the rest of it looked like, too. Standing in front of him in her underwear as she slowly pulled the bralette over her head. Every motion was painful but she didn't want to stand in front of him naked to be inspected - there had been enough of that at the hospital. There were palm prints on her shoulders, hips, long scratches down her torso. It seemed as if she had been kicked in the ribs, and a giant bruise blossomed across her back as if she had been slammed into the corner of a doorway. Her inner thighs were bruised, and there were fingertips stippled across her ass. Her legs were less beaten up, but there were various points on her arms where it was obvious she had struggled against being held.</p><p>“It looks worse than it is,” She murmured, accepting the leggings as he passed them to her, moving to perch on the edge of the bed.</p><p>“It is absolutely as bad as it looks, Finn. Don't downplay this.”</p><p>“I don't remember any of it. So all I know is that I hurt all over and what the nurses tell me.”</p><p>“And what was that?”</p><p>“That I must have fought like hell. That most people who look this come in as corpses. So I guess I'm lucky.”</p><p>“Don't say that, Finn,” There was a tiredness in his eyes that spoke to more than just jet lag as he held his arms out to her. She hesitated a moment before she tucked herself into his lap, curling into a ball on his thighs as he stroked her hair. They sat in silence as she traced the tattoos on his arms with a fingertip - one of the only parts of her that wasn't bruised or broken, owing to the fact that she kept her nails short.</p><p>“The cop said I need a lawyer.”</p><p>“Probably.”</p><p>“Because I don't look like a very sympathetic victim.”</p><p>“Well that’s horse shit,” His body vibrated with his anger, but he managed to keep his tone level, his lips pressed against her forehead. “I think our firm has a branch out here. We’ll find you someone. If I can’t commit murder, I’m at least going to make sure he goes away for a long time.”</p><p>“Your firm? Did you Legally Blonde a law degree on me?”</p><p>“‘What, like it’s hard?’” She felt him smile against her forehead and slowly wrapped her arms around his waist, holding herself to him as tightly as she could without pain. “We have to have a law firm on retainer. Do I look like I’m qualified to review contracts?”</p><p>“But I feel like that’s a different kind of law.”</p><p>“They’ll at least have a rec.”</p><p>“That extra decade you have on me sure does make you worldly,” Finn murmured, poking his ribs as a jab to accompany her quip. The black-haired guitarist made as if to poke her back, but thought better of it and wrapped his arms around her waist instead. She sat straddling him, her head on his shoulder. After a quiet moment, he lifted her face with both hands, his fingers gentle on her cheeks.</p><p>“Fuck, I can’t even kiss you.”</p><p>Finn closed her eyes and pressed the right side of her lips to his as gently as she could - for her sake.</p><p>“Just avoid the stitches.” She hadn’t realized she was crying until Brian’s thumbs wiped under her eyes, holding her face under his chin.</p><p>“Shit Finn, what did I get myself into with you?” The grey-haired guitarist smiled weakly at him, her hands buried in his loose v-neck.</p><p>“I’m sorry,”</p><p>“Don’t apologize to me. Don’t you dare.” His thumb moved slowly over her bruised skin as he considered her face, his tired eyes searching hers. “I can’t stand that this happened to you.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. In a perfect world.” Finn reached up with trembling fingers - they hadn’t really stopped trembling all day - and ran her fingers through his hair to poof up the mohawk that had been flattened by a set of long plane rides under a hoodie. “How are you still awake, anyway,”</p><p>“Years of practice. And Ambien on the plane.”</p><p>“They gave me some of that at the hospital. I guess they figured I’m not going to sleep well.”</p><p>“Have you ever taken it before?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Tonight might not be the best time to start. I had nightmares.”</p><p>“Can’t win, can I?” Finn sighed, letting her hands skim down the slightly shaggy sides of his head to her shoulders. After a moment of staring, her thumbs rubbing over his collarbones, she climbed to her feet. “Come on. They’re going to think we passed out.”</p><p>“Oh man, god forbid you’re ever lame, Finn,” Brian noted with a chuckle, but followed her out into the living room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finn lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling as she listened to Brian snore softly beside her. She had managed to fall asleep with his arm draped over her waist protectively, their fingers entwined, but he had rolled over onto his back almost immediately after he passed out, and she woke up with his motion. Normally, she would have slept through it, but even after all the smoking and drinking they had done that evening, she was still on edge.</p><p>She considered taking half an Ambien for a brief moment, but Brian’s words about nightmares echoed in her head. Instead, she pulled herself to her feet, searching for leggings and her tank top on the floor, grabbing Brian’s jacket off the handle of his suitcase before she padded into the living room. With a notebook in hand - potentially hers, but probably Brian's - she proceeded to crawl out onto the fire escape with her cigarettes and her untied Docs.</p><p>It was cold out for spring, she realized as she balanced the book on her lap so she could light a cigarette. She flipped open the book, pulling the pencil out of Haner’s pocket and began to pen the song in her head in the dim light from the streetlamps, tapping her fingers in time with the music only she could hear.</p><p>She didn't realize that the cigarette in her hand had gone out or that someone had joined her on the escape until she had a good page and a half of music written. At that point, she glanced up to find Brian, wrapped in a flannel jacket he must have grabbed off the peg by the front door. It looked like Tor’s.</p><p>“Hey,” She murmured as he re-lit her cigarette.</p><p>“Not sleeping?”</p><p>“Can't. Just keep staring at the ceiling, wondering. Knowing, but not. Does that make sense or am I still high?”</p><p>The fire escape wasn't very large, and the pair shifted on it so their feet were staggered between one another's, knees bent and backs against the stairs and the railing respectively.</p><p>“I mean… no, it doesn't make sense. Could you explain?”</p><p>“I don't know what he did. Well. I know. But I don't remember. It's like when you wake up from a dream and you know what happened but you can't quite describe it in detail.”</p><p>“Then yes. When you put it that way, I understand.”</p><p>“I think knowing is better than experiencing in this case.”</p><p>Brian reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “How are your stitches?”</p><p>“Itchy. I've never had any so itchy.”</p><p>“Like allergic itchy?” Of course he was concerned. She smiled as widely as she was able, aware her grin was lopsided.</p><p>“No, like they're in my lip itchy.” She sighed, taking a breath of her cigarette. “I wish you were here for other reasons,”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>“What woke you up, snorey?” She passed him the cigarette and closed the book in her lap, holding it to her chest. It was definitely Brian's book, she realized as she clutched it in her arms.</p><p>“You left. I figured I'd give you a few minutes to yourself but you didn't come back so I got up. Thought you'd be watching tv.”</p><p>“I don't really.”</p><p>“Duly noted.” He finished the cigarette, tossing the butt into the alley. “You need an ashtray out here.”</p><p>“Yeah we had one. I smashed it one night crawling out the window.”</p><p>“Your neighbors don't care that you smoke out here?”</p><p>“They do too. Lots of Berklee kids here.”</p><p>“Ah.” He put his hands on her knees, rubbing the crease of her legs with his thumbs. “Want to go inside and smoke?”</p><p>“What? Is it too cold for you, California boy?”</p><p>“That and I think it'll help you sleep. At least a little.”</p><p>“You don't look like you need the help,” She murmured, resting her forehead on his ‘marl’ hand.</p><p>“No, I definitely don't. But it's not about me.”</p><p>Finn kissed his fingers and jerked her head so he'd crawl in first.</p><p>Max had left, so the couch was empty, but Tor’s piece and the weed still lay on the coffee table. As Brian sat to pack up the bowl, Finn turned on one of the lights and padded into the kitchen, kicking off her shoes by the island.</p><p>“Did you want to watch tv?” She asked, searching for the cheetos she knew she'd want and the drinks she thought he might want.</p><p>“You're not afraid of waking Tor?”</p><p>“Not Toric, he could sleep through anything.”</p><p>“Then sure. How about a movie.”</p><p>“Uh, what're you feeling?” Finn tottered back to the couch, ladened with glorious purpose - glorious purpose being cheetoes, paper towels and two vodka and cokes. Brian shot her a look with a raised eyebrow. “Fine. You do that. I'll put on… Pitch Black.”</p><p>Brian groaned as he took a hit. She was just pulling the movie off the shelf when the bowl touched her lips, his body pressed against her back. With the DVD in hand she straightened, taking a deep breath, and laid her head over his shoulder as she held it in, sucking in more air on top of it. With a wicked grin, he left to sit back on the couch, and she put the movie into Tor’s PS4.</p><p>“Really though, Finn? Vin Diesel?”</p><p>“Yep. He was my celebrity crush before…”</p><p>She let her sentence trail off, looking at Haner, who grinned impishly.</p><p>“Not any more?”</p><p>“I mean, I’ve got kinda a big celebrity on retainer these days…” She smiled, pressing the side of her lips to his before she joined him on the couch, curling her legs over his as she took the bowl from him and breathed in deeply, letting the smoke sit in her lungs. His lips settled over hers, gently, and he breathed in, as if to ask for the hit from her. At his prompting, she breathed into his mouth, letting him gently part her lips with his tongue. He avoided her stitches with expert care, and let the tip of his tongue touch hers before he pulled back, as if afraid of hurting her.</p><p>“Brian,”</p><p>“Finn?”</p><p>“I can’t get all riled up. It hurts.”</p><p>Brian frowned as he pulled away, his brows knotted.</p><p>“Babe, I’m sorry,”</p><p>“It’s not your fault. Of all the people in the world, it’s not fucking your fault.” Finn grabbed the bowl from him, lighting it as she pressed it to her lips. “I certainly didn’t fucking ask for it.”</p><p>The grey-haired guitarist stared off into the TV as it started to play the movie.Brian started to say something, and stopped, reached his hand to run it through her hair, and stopped. She took a second hit and passed the bowl back into his hand, which wasn’t waiting for it. He took it anyway, running his free hand through her hair as he took a hit off the still-burning cherry.</p><p>“I love you, Bri.” She spoke on her exhale, reaching for her drink. “I’m sorry I put you through this.”</p><p>He threw his head back, holding the bowl in a clenched fist. After a moment, he lifted his bouffant, staring angrily at the grey-haired guitarist in the dim light. For a moment, as he held in his breath and she took the bowl from him, she was able to look at him, drinking him in. His high cheekbones, the tiny cleft in his chin, his heavily hooded eyes, set deeper by his strong brow.</p><p>“Finby. Don’t fucking apologize to me.” He breathed his cloud of smoke out to the side, his tone angrier than she had ever heard it. “Not ever. And especially not for fucking this. Jesus Christ, Finn. I am absolutely fucking sick that you’ve gone through this. That it was a fucking friend. It’s fucking despicable. And,” He grabbed her hand, his fingers folding over hers on the burned-out bowl. “It’s not your fucking fault.”</p><p>Finn stared at him, her eyes watering even though she willed them to stay dry.</p><p>“Then why do I feel so small?”</p><p>“Finn,” He took the bowl from her and set it down on the table, pulling her slowly into his chest as if giving her time to pull away. She didn’t. “I want to say it’s going to be ok, babe. So bad. I want to make it be ok.”</p><p>“I know, Bri,” She closed her eyes as she rested her head against his shoulder, holding him as tightly as she could with her arms wrapped around his chest. “It will be.”</p><p>“You’re so brave, Finn,” His lips were soft against her earlobe, he swore as he touched the third piercing of her lobe which had been torn out and stitched together by the doctors when she had been checked out. “Fucking hell, babe. Is there a part of you that’s not stitched up?”</p><p>She couldn’t answer, choking back a sob instead. Silently, Brian wrapped his arms around her chest, holding her firmly to his chest as she cried as quietly as she could against him. After a few minutes, though, it became clear that she couldn’t contain the coarse sobs that wracked her body. But Brian held her close as she rode the tide of feelings, shaking from fear, from fury. He stroked her hair as she could only hack dryly against his chest, his fingers gentle against her skin as he pulled her chin up to stare into her eyes.</p><p>“I love you, Findlay.”</p><p>“I love you too, Brian.” She kissed his cheek as she echoed his sentiment, moving her arms to wrap around his neck. His eyelashes brushed against her cheek as he closed his eyes, nestling his stubbly chin into the nook between her collarbone and neck, breathing deeply into what had to be a face full of hair. For a moment they were holding each other, her fingers buried in his thick mohawk, his twined on the small of her back.</p><p>“Come on kid. Let's try to finish this movie.”</p><p>“I might fall asleep,”</p><p>“Isn't that the point?” He smiled and touched his lips to the unbruised expanse of her forehead before he leaned forward, reaching for the bowl and the knife they had used to scrape it out.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finn lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling as she listened to Brian snore softly beside her. She had managed to fall asleep with his arm draped over her waist protectively, their fingers entwined, but he had rolled over onto his back almost immediately after he passed out, and she woke up with his motion. Normally, she would have slept through it, but even after all the smoking and drinking they had done that evening, she was still on edge.</p><p>She considered taking half an Ambien for a brief moment, but Brian’s words about nightmares echoed in her head. Instead, she pulled herself to her feet, searching for leggings and her tank top on the floor, grabbing Brian’s jacket off the handle of his suitcase before she padded into the living room. With a notebook in hand - potentially hers, but probably Brian's - she proceeded to crawl out onto the fire escape with her cigarettes and her untied Docs.</p><p>It was cold out for spring, she realized as she balanced the book on her lap so she could light a cigarette. She flipped open the book, pulling the pencil out of Haner’s pocket and began to pen the song in her head in the dim light from the streetlamps, tapping her fingers in time with the music only she could hear.</p><p>She didn't realize that the cigarette in her hand had gone out or that someone had joined her on the escape until she had a good page and a half of music written. At that point, she glanced up to find Brian, wrapped in a flannel jacket he must have grabbed off the peg by the front door. It looked like Tor’s.</p><p>“Hey,” She murmured as he re-lit her cigarette.</p><p>“Not sleeping?”</p><p>“Can't. Just keep staring at the ceiling, wondering. Knowing, but not. Does that make sense or am I still high?”</p><p>The fire escape wasn't very large, and the pair shifted on it so their feet were staggered between one another's, knees bent and backs against the stairs and the railing respectively.</p><p>“I mean… no, it doesn't make sense. Could you explain?”</p><p>“I don't know what he did. Well. I know. But I don't remember. It's like when you wake up from a dream and you know what happened but you can't quite describe it in detail.”</p><p>“Then yes. When you put it that way, I understand.”</p><p>“I think knowing is better than experiencing in this case.”</p><p>Brian reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “How are your stitches?”</p><p>“Itchy. I've never had any so itchy.”</p><p>“Like allergic itchy?” Of course he was concerned. She smiled as widely as she was able, aware her grin was lopsided.</p><p>“No, like they're in my lip itchy.” She sighed, taking a breath of her cigarette. “I wish you were here for other reasons,”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>“What woke you up, snorey?” She passed him the cigarette and closed the book in her lap, holding it to her chest. It was definitely Brian's book, she realized as she clutched it in her arms.</p><p>“You left. I figured I'd give you a few minutes to yourself but you didn't come back so I got up. Thought you'd be watching tv.”</p><p>“I don't really.”</p><p>“Duly noted.” He finished the cigarette, tossing the butt into the alley. “You need an ashtray out here.”</p><p>“Yeah we had one. I smashed it one night crawling out the window.”</p><p>“Your neighbors don't care that you smoke out here?”</p><p>“They do too. Lots of Berklee kids here.”</p><p>“Ah.” He put his hands on her knees, rubbing the crease of her legs with his thumbs. “Want to go inside and smoke?”</p><p>“What? Is it too cold for you, California boy?”</p><p>“That and I think it'll help you sleep. At least a little.”</p><p>“You don't look like you need the help,” She murmured, resting her forehead on his ‘marl’ hand.</p><p>“No, I definitely don't. But it's not about me.”</p><p>Finn kissed his fingers and jerked her head so he'd crawl in first.</p><p>Max had left, so the couch was empty, but Tor’s piece and the weed still lay on the coffee table. As Brian sat to pack up the bowl, Finn turned on one of the lights and padded into the kitchen, kicking off her shoes by the island.</p><p>“Did you want to watch tv?” She asked, searching for the cheetos she knew she'd want and the drinks she thought he might want.</p><p>“You're not afraid of waking Tor?”</p><p>“Not Toric, he could sleep through anything.”</p><p>“Then sure. How about a movie.”</p><p>“Uh, what're you feeling?” Finn tottered back to the couch, ladened with glorious purpose - glorious purpose being cheetoes, paper towels and two vodka and cokes. Brian shot her a look with a raised eyebrow. “Fine. You do that. I'll put on… Pitch Black.”</p><p>Brian groaned as he took a hit. She was just pulling the movie off the shelf when the bowl touched her lips, his body pressed against her back. With the DVD in hand she straightened, taking a deep breath, and laid her head over his shoulder as she held it in, sucking in more air on top of it. With a wicked grin, he left to sit back on the couch, and she put the movie into Tor’s PS4.</p><p>“Really though, Finn? Vin Diesel?”</p><p>“Yep. He was my celebrity crush before…”</p><p>She let her sentence trail off, looking at Haner, who grinned impishly.</p><p>“Not any more?”</p><p>“I mean, I’ve got kinda a big celebrity on retainer these days…” She smiled, pressing the side of her lips to his before she joined him on the couch, curling her legs over his as she took the bowl from him and breathed in deeply, letting the smoke sit in her lungs. His lips settled over hers, gently, and he breathed in, as if to ask for the hit from her. At his prompting, she breathed into his mouth, letting him gently part her lips with his tongue. He avoided her stitches with expert care, and let the tip of his tongue touch hers before he pulled back, as if afraid of hurting her.</p><p>“Brian,”</p><p>“Finn?”</p><p>“I can’t get all riled up. It hurts.”</p><p>Brian frowned as he pulled away, his brows knotted.</p><p>“Babe, I’m sorry,”</p><p>“It’s not your fault. Of all the people in the world, it’s not fucking your fault.” Finn grabbed the bowl from him, lighting it as she pressed it to her lips. “I certainly didn’t fucking ask for it.”</p><p>The grey-haired guitarist stared off into the TV as it started to play the movie.Brian started to say something, and stopped, reached his hand to run it through her hair, and stopped. She took a second hit and passed the bowl back into his hand, which wasn’t waiting for it. He took it anyway, running his free hand through her hair as he took a hit off the still-burning cherry.</p><p>“I love you, Bri.” She spoke on her exhale, reaching for her drink. “I’m sorry I put you through this.”</p><p>He threw his head back, holding the bowl in a clenched fist. After a moment, he lifted his bouffant, staring angrily at the grey-haired guitarist in the dim light. For a moment, as he held in his breath and she took the bowl from him, she was able to look at him, drinking him in. His high cheekbones, the tiny cleft in his chin, his heavily hooded eyes, set deeper by his strong brow.</p><p>“Finby. Don’t fucking apologize to me.” He breathed his cloud of smoke out to the side, his tone angrier than she had ever heard it. “Not ever. And especially not for fucking this. Jesus Christ, Finn. I am absolutely fucking sick that you’ve gone through this. That it was a fucking friend. It’s fucking despicable. And,” He grabbed her hand, his fingers folding over hers on the burned-out bowl. “It’s not your fucking fault.”</p><p>Finn stared at him, her eyes watering even though she willed them to stay dry.</p><p>“Then why do I feel so small?”</p><p>“Finn,” He took the bowl from her and set it down on the table, pulling her slowly into his chest as if giving her time to pull away. She didn’t. “I want to say it’s going to be ok, babe. So bad. I want to make it be ok.”</p><p>“I know, Bri,” She closed her eyes as she rested her head against his shoulder, holding him as tightly as she could with her arms wrapped around his chest. “It will be.”</p><p>“You’re so brave, Finn,” His lips were soft against her earlobe, he swore as he touched the third piercing of her lobe which had been torn out and stitched together by the doctors when she had been checked out. “Fucking hell, babe. Is there a part of you that’s not stitched up?”</p><p>She couldn’t answer, choking back a sob instead. Silently, Brian wrapped his arms around her chest, holding her firmly to his chest as she cried as quietly as she could against him. After a few minutes, though, it became clear that she couldn’t contain the coarse sobs that wracked her body. But Brian held her close as she rode the tide of feelings, shaking from fear, from fury. He stroked her hair as she could only hack dryly against his chest, his fingers gentle against her skin as he pulled her chin up to stare into her eyes.</p><p>“I love you, Findlay.”</p><p>“I love you too, Brian.” She kissed his cheek as she echoed his sentiment, moving her arms to wrap around his neck. His eyelashes brushed against her cheek as he closed his eyes, nestling his stubbly chin into the nook between her collarbone and neck, breathing deeply into what had to be a face full of hair. For a moment they were holding each other, her fingers buried in his thick mohawk, his twined on the small of her back.</p><p>“Come on kid. Let's try to finish this movie.”</p><p>“I might fall asleep,”</p><p>“Isn't that the point?” He smiled and touched his lips to the unbruised expanse of her forehead before he leaned forward, reaching for the bowl and the knife they had used to scrape it out.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morning found the pair laid out on the couch. Or, rather, Brian laid with his legs out on the chaise, a pillow behind his head, and Finn with her head in his lap, the rest of her curled into a tight ball. The comforter from Finn’s bed wrapped around was wrapped around the smaller twin, the trailing edge looped over Brian's feet as more of an afterthought than anything.</p><p>She woke first but willed herself to go back to sleep, listening to the guitarist’s easy, even breathing.</p><p>Tor’s padding feet woke her, but Finn pretended to keep sleeping, feeling the Californian’s fingers absently brushing through her hair as the men grunted good morning to one another.</p><p>“Coffee?” Her twin offered from the kitchen.</p><p>“Fuck yes.” Brian stifled a yawn, as if his body wanted to prove just how much he needed coffee.</p><p>Tor put on a pot and wandered back into the living space, collapsing on the chair by Brian's feet as the pot brewed.</p><p>“You're good for her, you know. Seen her with guys who wouldn't cross town for her much less the country.”</p><p>“Most guys wouldn't have the means,”</p><p>“Yeah but all that aside. Twin stamp of approval.”</p><p>“It's an honor,” Tor probably flipped off the sarcastic guitarist, who chuckled under Finn’s head.</p><p>They stayed silent for a few minutes as the pot did its work, and as Tor walked back to the kitchen for mugs, Brian bent to touch his lips to her ear.</p><p>“You can pretend to wake up now, babe.” His murmur was quiet, but there was a tinge of laughter to it. She cracked open a smoky grey eye, staring up at his slow smile.</p><p>“Don't worry, I won't tell your brother,” Finn shook her head as she sat up, twining her fingers through her loose curls to try and shake them out.</p><p>“If you knew he did,” She murmured, looking over at the man in question, who was carrying three mugs, a trivet and the coffee pot. He set them down with a wink.</p><p>“Finn never breathes evenly when she sleeps,” He confirmed with a twinly nod. “Oh, wait, it was ‘twintuition’ or whatever the fuck you call it Finby. I instinctively know. We also know each other's thoughts.”</p><p>“You two grew up super close,” Brian half-asked as he reached for the coffee.</p><p>“You could say that. Because we're twins our foster parents asked us to do a lot of things you wouldn't normally do to regular siblings.” Finn quirked an eyebrow at her brother, accepting the coffee Brian passed her. “What? I bet he wasn't still sharing a bed with his sister when he had his first wet dream,”</p><p>Findlay crinkled her nose delicately, noting her face was a little less sore today than yesterday.</p><p>“Wow, no.”</p><p>“We shared a room until we were eighteen and moved the fuck out. I can always tell when she's really asleep because that's when I got to pull out the Playboys,” Tor winked at his sister playfully, who flipped him off with her free hand.</p><p>“Aren't there laws about that or some shit?” Brian asked, handing the second full mug to Tor.</p><p>“They're hazy. And twelve year olds aren't usually super well versed in foster law.” The grey-haired guitarist sat back, content to listen to the two banter as she figured out how to connect Brian's phone to the Bluetooth speaker. If she wasn't playing music in her house she was listening to it, and with no phone of her own she was content to steal his.</p><p>“Not that one,” Brian glanced over just in time to see her considering the Claypool Lennon Delirium, sitting back with his own mug. “Questionable subject material.”</p><p>Finn nodded and continued down the list, enjoying his music collection. The man listened to everything.</p><p>“Do you have any siblings?” She asked, picking out the new Thrice album.</p><p>“An older brother and younger step-sister. Brent is two years older and I was twelve when Mckenna was born.”</p><p>“What does your brother do?”</p><p>“Insurance broker actually.” Tor laughed, almost spilling coffee on himself.</p><p>“Come on, Tor, we probably have dozens of siblings with normal lives.” He laughed even harder at her joke about their parentage, clutching one side.</p><p>“I always forget we're kinda fucked up, sorry Brian.”</p><p>“Hey man, it's cool. It took my family years to come to terms with the fact that the most successful kid is a dropout. Imagine trying to force your youngest to go to college with that model?”</p><p>“Did she?”</p><p>“Journalism. Just graduated actually. She's not much younger than you two,”</p><p>“Yeah she is! If you were twelve when she was born and you're thirty five now she's twenty three or something.” It was still closer to her age than she was to Brian's, but that didn't seem to bug the bedheaded guitarist and she wasn't going to push the issue.</p><p>“Quick on that mental math, is that a Savant thing?” Her boyfriend teased, poking the grey-haired guitarist with a gentle finger.</p><p>“I’m the math twin. He’s the wordy one.”</p><p>“And with our powers combined we form nerdy wordy metal twin!”</p><p>“You two are certainly something,” Brian grinned at the pair, running his hand through his hair. “What do you guys do all day, anyway?”</p><p>“I’m a theory tutor for Berklee. Sometimes I do master classes for guitar performance - theory. How not to make a solo too hard to play. But that’s usually an afternoon thing. And I let them know I’d be out.”</p><p>“Bartender. Keeps me young.” Finn rolled her eyes at her brother, sipping her coffee.</p><p>“Enjoy it while you can still get around without being recognized,” The grey-haired guitarist eyed her boyfriend levelly, an eyebrow raised as her twin crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. “Ok, I guess you probably get recognized.”</p><p>“Not like you, I’m sure, Mr. Gates,” It was her turn to poke the guitarist, holding her coffee well away from the couch in anticipation of his retaliation. “When I look less like a month-old potato, I’ll take you to campus with me. If you’re still around.”</p><p>“You don’t look like a month-old potato. You look like a peach that’s been dropped down some stairs.”</p><p>“If I wanted your input, Toric Colin O'Shaughnessy, I would have fucking asked for it.” In true sibling fashion, Tor stuck his tongue out at his sister, who flipped him off.</p><p>“Could you guys be a little more Irish?” Brian laughed, ducking down between the pair to refill his coffee. “Like, I don’t think your hair is red enough. Maybe a couple more freckles, Finn?”</p><p>“Oh, fuck you Brian. What’s your middle name, anyhow? Shithead?”</p><p>“Elwin.”</p><p>“And the Quarterback is taken down by the sack she didn’t see coming!”</p><p>“Great sportsball reference, Tor. A for effort.”</p><p>“Hey! I know sports!” Finn rolled her eyes, focusing back on the man sipping coffee next to her as she adjusted the comforter around her shoulders one-handed.</p><p>“Elwin?”</p><p>“Family name. Some great uncle or something. I'm a Junior which always fucking sucked.”</p><p>“She’s just butthurt because her’s is Brogan.”</p><p>“Who the fuck named you two?” Haner looked aghast, eyebrows raised as he glanced between the twins. Tor punted to his twin the question with a shrug as he assessed the leftover nuggets in the bag on the coffee table.</p><p>“Well, you already know about mom, so I’m shocked that you’re shocked. I actually think she just recited four Irish names she knew and the nurse assigned them in order.”</p><p>“Or maybe they made sense? Do you know anything about your family?”</p><p>“Nope.” Finn raised her eyebrow at her brother as he hit his piece, ignoring her poignantly. “We met our birth mom once. In court. When she surrendered us to the state permanently.”</p><p>“Man, you two should use that to sell albums,” Brian set down his coffee to accept the bowl from Toric.</p><p>“How do you think I write them?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, that’s all you, Tor?” Finn’s statement was absent as she studied Brian’s hollowed cheeks, wishing she didn’t look like a frog that had been hit by a truck. “Really, guys? Little wake and bake?”</p><p>“You should try it.”</p><p>She pursed her lips, considering for a moment before she reached out for the piece, pressing it to her lips for an inhale.</p><p>“How is this any different than getting high at a regular hour, anyway?” She asked, stifling a cough as she passed the bowl back to Tor via Brian. The black haired guitarist took a sneaky hit out of turn before he passed it back to the other twin.</p><p>“Because I make fucking baller pancakes.” He said finally, letting out a clear exhale before he got up to wander to the kitchen. Finn and her brother exchanged a look before they followed, Finn with a coffee and the bowl, Tor with two coffees.</p><p>“What're you doing?” Finn hopped up on the counter, watching as Brian raided the pantry. “You just know the recipe?”</p><p>Brian swooped by to kiss her cheek gently, nuzzling her hair aside. Tor’s eye roll was almost audible as the guitarist followed his girlfriend’s fingertip towards the cast iron in the cabinet by the stove. He was using actual fucking flour for the recipe, Finn was almost shocked.</p><p>The twins watched as he started to whisk his ingredients together, exchanging startled glances every now and then, sharing the bowl. After her second hit, Finn clambered off the counter and around her brother to pass the bowl to her lover, holding it for him as he took a deep inhale of the smoke. Tor took the bowl from her fingers for a refill as Haner coughed over his pancakes. The thing needed to be refilled. As her twin left, Findlay wrapped her arms around Brian's waist, making herself a nuisance as she watched him cook.</p><p>“Can you toss them in the air?”</p><p>“Not with this pan I can't.” She turned her mouth to his, pressing her lips to his harder than she should have. Her lip hurt and she sucked in between her teeth, pulling away. “I'm sorry babe,”</p><p>“My fault.” She murmured, holding him tightly as he shifted a pancake to the plate next to him. Tor returned and offered the bowl to his twin.</p><p>“No more. I'm a mess,” She shifted away from the men, leaving them to smoke together as she hopped up on the island and laid flat out with her back against the cool marble. She turned her head so her cheek rested against the stone. It felt great against her bruises.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After breakfast Finn excused herself for another shower, and wandered into the bathroom. She turned the music on her phone on as loud as she could and reached under the sink. She had been holding onto the purple dye for too long. It was time for a change.</p><p>“Finby? What're you up to, babe?” It was Brian - Tor had probably decided he had seen his sister naked enough for another decade or two to check in on her in the bathroom.</p><p>The door opened just a crack.</p><p>“Finn? Woah, Findlay, what're you doing?”</p><p>“Knitting sweaters,”</p><p>“Does that need to sit?” He half-asked, letting the door tip shut behind him. She could feel his eyes on her, she couldn't blame him for being hungry for her. In better circumstances, she would have reached for him. Especially if circumstances didn't mean she was standing half naked in her bathroom with her hair piled on her head, covered in purple dye.</p><p>“Yeah. It should. I don't want it to be too purple though so I'm gonna wash it out.”</p><p>He kissed her lips softly, getting purple dye on his fingers as he absently buried his hand in her hair. After a tense moment, where she could tell he was fighting against his urge for her, he pulled his lips away from her stitched ones, both breathing heavily.</p><p>“Fucking hell, Brian,”</p><p>“I'm sorry, sweetie. I am. Shit.”</p><p>She reached up to touch his temples with shaking fingers - noting her hands still shook, even after more than two days after Jay… forcibly, Finn shook herself.</p><p>“Sorry,”</p><p>“Findlay. What have I said about apologizing to me?”</p><p>“Thanks dad,”</p><p>“Damn it, Finn,” He sat back on the countertop, leaning on his tattooed hands. “Don't do that to me,”</p><p>“Bri,” She stared at him, pausing before she ran her fingertips up his arm. “I… shit, I can't apologize. I love you?”</p><p>“I love you too, little brat.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he nipped at it. “Wash your fucking hair,”</p><p>With a grin, Finn turned to start the water and yank down her leggings so she could jump in the shower. Despite her bruises, she knew Haner stared at her as she pulled the curtain closed. Driving him insane was much more fun when she was able to act on it.</p><p>“Why are there scissors here? Are you going to cut it?”</p><p>“Thinking on it.”</p><p>“Hasty change is hasty!” Tor called from the living room - she could barely hear him over the pounding water.</p><p>“I agree. If you're gonna dye it don't cut it!”</p><p>“You just like it long.”</p><p>“I'm a very selfish man.”</p><p>Finn turned off the water and reached her hand out for a towel, waiting for him to pass it to her. It seemed to take him a moment to get it, and she had to prompt him for the second towel to wrap around her body.</p><p>“So how purple is this about to be?”</p><p>“Hoping for a lavender situation.”</p><p>“Purple,” He punctuated the word with a kiss before he turned to walk out of the bathroom, “Is my favorite color.”</p><p>That asshole took her scissors!</p><p>Frowning, Findlay worked on drying her hair - just enough to be able to see the new color.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No, I can go with you, I just have to hop on with Zacky for, like, half an interview.”</p><p>“They don't want you for the whole thing?”</p><p>“Well I'll start it here but I need to finish it in the car. Is that ok?”</p><p>“I mean, it's just stitches, Brian. I can go by myself,”</p><p>Finn sat on her kitchen counter, watching Brian cook - it was nice to have someone around to feed her properly. It wasn't that she and her brother couldn't cook, per se, but they always had other things to focus their energy on. Brian claimed that as a semi-perpetual bachelor, he had been forced to learn or live the life of a half-starved artist.</p><p>Max and Tor sat in the living room, tearing down the subtleties of something Finn had written, discussing changes they would make. The lavender-haired guitarist interjected occasionally, objecting or affirming a change as she watched her boyfriend make breakfast.</p><p>“No, I don't want you to be there alone.” Finn smiled appreciatively at him as he swooped in to kiss her cheek.</p><p>“I could take you, Finn!”</p><p>“No offense, Maximillian, but I need someone who can drive me home if -”</p><p>“I can drive!”</p><p>“No!” As if by rote, the twins struck down their bassist, who faked shock. He was used to the song and dance, and only still offered to take them places in time of true need when it might actually be warranted or as a joke.</p><p>The quartet sat down with their eggs and bacon at the kitchen counter, and discussed their plans for the day.</p><p>“I think I'm going to go back to work Monday,” Finn said as she poured orange juice for the guys from her seat on the cool stone. “I can't stand just laying around all the time and I don't look like a monster any more. Once the stitches are out, anyway.”</p><p>“Don't kid yourself Finn, you always look like a monster.”</p><p>She stuck her tongue out at her brother, who smiled in reply.</p><p>“I'll have to get out of your hair sometime next week. Gotta get back on this tour.” To be fair, by that point he would have been off the horse for three weeks. The logistics of living across the country from one another wasn't something they had discussed, and certainly not something she wanted to deal with.</p><p>“Can I take my call in your room?”</p><p>“Sure.” Finn touched his hand on her shoulder as he kissed her cheek on the way to the bedroom.</p><p>Tor and Max left - they had an appointment with the Heathen’s agent, to discuss the logistics of getting Jay out of the band. Finn was happy to miss that discussion to get her stitches out. It was still too fresh.</p><p>She sat, strumming her guitar as Haner took his interview in the next room. He was pacing as he spoke, but she tried not to tune in to the conversation as she composed. After a while, Haner stepped out of the bedroom, taking her pencil from her as Zacky spoke. He changed a note and tapped the page with a grin as he walked away, motioning for her to try the chords again.</p><p>“Yeah, I'm in Boston right now. Was gonna take a masterclass at Berklee with a guitarist I dig but she got sick. So now I'm staying with some friends until the tour starts back up.”</p><p>He paused thoughtfully, glancing at the lavender-haired guitarist as she played through the progression, her fingers nimble.</p><p>“No comment.” Finn’s head shot up and she glared at the black-haired man with raised eyebrows. He grinned at her, waving as he paced. She worked through the progression one more time before she stood, crossing the room to where Brian paced to show him her watch. It was almost time to leave. He bent and pressed his lips to her temple and gestured to the door.</p><p>Findlay stomped into her boots, yanking on a leather jacket as Haner slipped a hoodie on, tying one boot at a time with his phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder, commenting occasionally. He followed Finn to the car, taking a solid grasp on what she called the “oh shit grip” above the window as she weaved through Boston traffic to the hospital.</p><p>“Oh of course, any time. Thanks, Bill.”</p><p>Brian hung up just as they pulled into a parking spot, twining his fingers through hers on the gearshift.</p><p>“No comment?” She asked with a wicked grin, staring at the guitarist.</p><p>“They've started asking about us. Started a bit in Europe but now…” He shrugged, squeezing her fingers gently. “Let's go get those stitches out, potato face.”</p><p>Finn stuck her tongue out at him but climbed out of the car behind him anyway.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An hour later, Finn sat on the kitchen counter, rubbing her lip with the side of her hand. It still itched, but the stitches were gone. Her feet swung as she listened to the toilet flush, poking the tiny divots in her lip with a finger. She would always have a scar there - the lip had been completely split down almost an inch to her gums from where she had almost certainly been hit with something hard. A rocks glass, as it happened. One of her favorites.</p><p>Brian found the lavender-haired guitarist lost in thought, staring into the distance with her fingertips touched to her lip.</p><p>“What are you thinking of?”</p><p>She didn't realize he had come out of the bathroom until his hands were on each of her knees, his tawny eyes bored into hers.</p><p>“The forensics report. The only reason I know what happened. At least most of it.”</p><p>He sighed, his lips pursed. Brian had read the forensics report with her and Tor. All three had been disgusted. Shocked. Jay maintained his innocence, but had admitted he had always wanted Findlay in a sexual way before he lawyered up.</p><p>She had been forced to go over each grisly detail with her lawyer, to look at the pictures of every bruise and detail. Not knowing had been better, but in order to kick Jay out of the band for good they had to press charges while suing him out of his contract. Shockingly, there wasn't anything in there about automatic expulsion for rape of a bandmate.</p><p>“And Las Rageous. I guess we'll have to cancel without a drummer.”</p><p>“I think I can help with that at least a little.” Finn quirked an eyebrow at him, her head tilted. “I have a little experience looking for drummers, babe.”</p><p>“Ah, true. What about a stand-in?”</p><p>“Ask Brooks?”</p><p>“I mean, I feel like that's asking a lot of him,”</p><p>“But I think he'd understand.”</p><p>“Have you talked to them? About what happened?”</p><p>“Not my place to. You're not public with it so I didn't give them details. They were fucking ticked I left Cali immediately but they understood it wasn't for a good thing.”</p><p>“Do I tell them?”</p><p>“You do whatever you want. Are you going to talk about it publicly?”</p><p>“I haven't decided but I probably will have to.” Finn sighed, leaning her forehead against his. “I don't want to be someone's storyline though. I don't want to be forced to be an activist.”</p><p>“I understand. It's delicate.”</p><p>“Exactly.” She pressed her lips against his, giving in to his hungry kisses. He had been waiting to kiss her for a while, she figured - to really kiss her, not gently peck or press one side of his lips to the other side of hers. He buried a hand deeply in her lavender hair, pulling her hips to his. She wrapped her legs around his narrow waist, holding him to her.</p><p>“Fuck, Brian,” She gasped as she pulled away, pushing her hair behind her shoulders. “I can't get that riled up yet. It still hurts me.”</p><p>He kissed her cheek softly, his eyes sad.</p><p>“I'm sorry babe. I didn't mean to get hasty,”</p><p>“It's ok. I'll be fine.”</p><p>He paced back to the living room, swiping his phone off the table and setting it to play music as she watched, picking something nice and angry. She appreciated it - she was much more into metal than anything else he listened to - but wondered at his pacing. After a moment, Brian glanced up long enough to read her expression.</p><p>“Come here,” He held open his arms. Finn slid off the countertop to pad into his grasp, wrapping her arms around his waist as he held her to his chest, a hand on the back of her head and the other around her back. She closed her eyes and listened to his breathing over the A Day to Remember song.</p><p>“I have a question. And you don't have to answer it if you don't want to.” Her eyes popped open, but she let him hold her tightly. “Can I tell people? About us?”</p><p>“Like… go public?”</p><p>“Come out of the relationship closet?”</p><p>“Step into the light?”</p><p>“Out ourselves?”</p><p>Finn giggled, holding him tightly as they sparred with puns, realizing slowly that he swayed with her to a slower song.</p><p>“I want to, Bri. But I don't want there to be a mixed message. Like. I have to talk about what happened with Jay. I don't want to cloud my relationship with you with that.”</p><p>“Gotcha.”</p><p>“But. I will say. You don't have to say no comment when someone asks about your love life. Because I won't.”</p><p>Brian looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, his fingers under her chin.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yes. But I'm not going to be like ‘Synyster and I fuck all the time and we're dating and we say I love you.’ Some shit is better left private.”</p><p>“So I can say we're dating?”</p><p>“You can say you are dating someone. But let's keep a veil over it. At least until I get this shit figured out.” She looked up at him again, renewing their eye contact. “That's the best I can do right now, babe.”</p><p>“I understand. It's more than I expected.” She stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to his, holding him to her by his black bouffant mohawk.</p><p>“I love you, Brian,” He lifted her off her feet, sweeping her in a circle around her living room before he set her down gently. His much taller frame bore down on hers, his tongue pushing past her lips to tangle with hers.</p><p>“Fucking hell, Findlay. I love you too,” He murmured finally, breathless. “How did I land a little catch like you?”</p><p>Finn giggled and latched her lips onto his again, her fingers laced behind his neck.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m the catch,” She laughed with a grin, missing up his hair.</p><p>His smile was sad as he ran his thumb over her lip, kissing her forehead.</p><p>“Enough sap. Do you want to come with me to campus? I think it's time I show my face again.”</p><p>Haner gathered her up into his arms again, his lips at her throat. “Only if you call me Syn,” He murmured against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.</p><p>“Oh man, I don't know about that,”</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Twenty minutes later, the pair were sitting in one of her favorite professor’s office in one of Berklee’s state of the art buildings. The professor was a bearded, grey-haired older man named Guy Van Huster, who had taught Findlay when she went to Berklee and continued to mentor her beyond her school career. Even though, currently, her mentoring needs had far surpassed his level of expertise.</p><p>“What the fuck, O’Shaughnessy, you disappear for two weeks with no fucking explanation and then you come back here with purple fucking hair and Synyster Gates?”</p><p>“Brian.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“My name is Brian, it's nice to meet you Professor…?”</p><p>“Van Huster. Call me Guy.”</p><p>Brian nodded, and looked over at Finn with an eyebrow raised. Findlay sighed, sweeping her hair back up into a bun on top of her head.</p><p>“I'm waiting, Findlay,”</p><p>“Oh, knock it off Guy. I wasn't away because I wanted to be. And I don't want your sympathy. But we're down a drummer.”</p><p>“Is that a… what happened to your face?” She knew she was only vaguely bruised any more, having healed a lot over the two weeks she was able to cover most of the color with foundation. Which she never wore. Which had a tendency to draw suspicion. The split lip with the still-obvious stitch marks was un-hide-able.</p><p>“Jay drugged me and kicked the shit out of me a couple weeks ago,”</p><p>Brian shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable as he reached for Findlay's hand. She squeezed his Boro-emblazoned fingers hard, glad he could sense how uncomfortable she was. But she had to tell Guy. He was her boss but also a long time confidant of hers.</p><p>“Holy shit Finn, you're fucking kidding?”</p><p>“Nope. I don't remember any of it but Tor had to take me to the hospital. Bri flew across country after he got into fucking Cali to be here.”</p><p>“Guessing yous twos are an item then?”</p><p>“Publicly? No.”</p><p>“Got it. Damn kid. I'm sorry for shouting,” Guy leaned back in his chair, his burly arms crossed over his round belly.</p><p>“How could you know? Outside of the band, Brian and the lawyers, you're the first person I told.”</p><p>“You gonna do press on that?”</p><p>“What's your suggestion?”</p><p>“Don't have one. Not something I've dealt with. What about a new drummer? Obviously, Jay isn't staying with you.”</p><p>“Well Tor and Max are about ready to murder him on sight -”</p><p>“That's a fucking understatement,” Haner murmured under his breath, getting a glare from the lavender-haired guitarist. “I'd kill him too, Finn.”</p><p>“I know babe. You can have what's left of him when I'm done.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Findlay. What the fuck did he do to you?”</p><p>“I really don't want to go into it, Guy. You don't want to know.”</p><p>“Fuck,”</p><p>“When is class?” She asked after a pause, chewing the side of her tongue. “And can we fucking join?”</p><p>“You're going to bring Brian, ‘Synyster Fucking Gates,’ to a theory class?”</p><p>“I think he'll surprise you, Guy. He's no amateur,”</p><p>“Well I think that's quite obvious, Finn, thanks.”</p><p>Findlay rolled her eyes and stood up, gesturing for the door.</p><p>“I know we're gonna be late, Guy, let's get to it.”</p><p>Brian followed closely behind Finn, and it took a lot of strength for her to not reach for his hand to hold as they followed behind Guy. The professor was laden with books and notebooks - and a fair few loose papers - as they swept down toward the lecture hall. Finn had a small notebook with her, mainly for doodling and writing down music if it popped into her head.</p><p>“What are you lecturing on today?” She asked hopefully, taking two strides to each of the men's one.</p><p>“Funnily enough, it was going to be a class on twin guitar harmony.” Beside her, Brian groaned. “You've got a smart one there, Findlay. I was, in fact, thinking of asking you two for a demo.”</p><p>“Totally forgot to bring my guitar, sorry boss,”</p><p>The lavender-haired guitarist glanced at her boyfriend over her shoulder with a sad shake of her head. He raised his eyebrows, concerned. At least they were both dressed decently enough to appear in front of a classroom.</p><p>“You think I don't keep guitars in the classroom?” Guy paused as Finn reached for the door under his full arms. “Come on, just give me permission so I don't have to shame you in front of the whole class.”</p><p>“Ok but what would we play?”</p><p>“God Damn is the best example from your music I can think of. Maybe Bat Country?” Finn suggested thoughtfully, pulling the door open.</p><p>“You'll think of something. Good afternoon, kiddos. Please ignore the tattooed assholes in the back of class for now. They're just here to make me late to shit for now.”</p><p>Finn pointed to a seat in the empty back row, guiding Haner to sit beside her. The lecture hall wasn't large and grand, but she was surprised to see about thirty guitarists in Guy’s class. He had a trick for making students sit up front, too - anything he wrote on the board was extremely small. Even an eagle eye would have to sit close to the front to see.</p><p>“Why'd you make me do this?” Brian murmured into her ear, sitting with his knee against hers and his arms crossed. He was in full-on arrogant Syn mode, his heavily-lidded eyes heavy with boredom, his hard cheekbones stood out against his clenching and unclenching jaw.</p><p>“Didn't make you do shit. You asked to come to campus,” She shot back in a heated whisper, prodding his thigh with a hard finger. “Those are the guitars. I'll fucking fight you if you take the Epiphone.”</p><p>Little did Brian know, Finn fully expected him to take the Epiphone, which had the ugliest action she had ever seen. She would probably reach for the heinous-looking Strat lookalike, which was beautifully set up for all its horrible aqua coloring and chips.</p><p>“Hey, you two in the back. Shut the hell up. I've never kicked a rockstar out of my class and I'm just itching for a reason.”</p><p>Findlay rolled her eyes and assumed her normal lecture stance, pulling her feet up into a half-lotus, hands in her lap. She couldn't see the writing on the board but she knew what he was talking about. After about ten minutes, as a student asked a question, Brian reached over her hips to grab her notebook and pencil, flipping it open on the desk between them.</p><p>‘What do we play?’</p><p>‘You want to sing?’ Her loopy cursive looked lazy next to his tight hand.</p><p>‘All you babe.’</p><p>‘Know November Rain?’</p><p>“Oh, fuck you, Finn,” He shot under his breath at her, shaking his head. She grinned at him insolently. With his right hand, he was writing in her notebook, but the other hand seemed to be texting Zacky. Probably making sure his band was ok with him potentially going rogue.</p><p>‘One of yours then.’</p><p>‘God damn is impressive.’</p><p>“Sure.” Finn murmured, writing, ‘But without words?’</p><p>‘Sing it. I know you can.’</p><p>Finn stared levelly at her boyfriend, eyes narrowed. He met her gaze, lips pursed as they argued silently. She lost, and ended up looking away to the corner of the room poignantly.</p><p>“Do you two have something you want to share with the class?” Guy asked from the front, pointing at Brian and Finn in the back. Brian flipped shut the notebook, looking down at Finn, his face unreadable. The lavender-haired guitarist looked up at her professor, an eyebrow raised.</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“I can think of something. What better way to illustrate my point about the importance of equal exposure of each guitar in a twin guitar harmony? Synyster Gates of Avenged Sevenfold, kids. One of the masters of writing harmonies for two. And since his counterpart isn’t here, I guess we’ll take you, Finn.”</p><p>Findlay rolled her eyes and heaved herself to her feet beside Brian, who was a little slower to rise. They walked down the lecture stairs slowly, the eyes of the students were practically hungry for them to play. Haner darted in front of her to grab the Epiphone with an insolent grin, getting a punch in the arm as Finn picked up the Strat. Both tuned for a minute as the TA plugged them in, and glanced up at each other when they were satisfied. The black-haired guitarist leaned on the table Guy lectured behind, cracking his knuckles as Finn found a stool, perching with one foot on the ground.</p><p>“Little abrupt, don’t you think, Guy?” She asked, looking up at her former teacher.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. You knew what was going to happen when you walked on campus with him today.” The class snickered as the two verbally sparred, ignoring Haner as he tested the action on the Epiphone, his frown deepening by the second.</p><p>“Hey, I thought you said this was the good guitar?” He asked the lavender-haired guitarist beside him, cutting into her banter with the professor.</p><p>“Why would you think I’d give you the good one, Haner? I could give you a three-string banjo and you’d still be better than me. Should we play?”</p><p>“Mind telling the class what you’re playing?” Guy asked, sitting on a stool behind the desk with his back against the blackboard. Finn opened her mouth to speak, but Haner beat her to it.</p><p>“I think we’ll play Exist for you guys. It’s usually too long to play in concert.” His grin was wicked, and she realized she was being punished for giving him the shittier guitar. Fuck.</p><p>“Brian, that’s twelve fucking minutes long, we’ll kill the poor kids”</p><p>“Yeah, well, not all of it, I’ll stop sometime.”</p><p>“Yeah, right,” She breathed deeply, flipping her pick between her fingers as she stared at him, waiting patiently and silently thanking him for forcing her to learn the entire Avenged repertoire for the tour.</p><p>He sucked in a breath, eyes closed, and began to play. The pace he set for Exist was absolutely blistering, but Findlay managed to keep up, her fingers flying. She wasn’t sure if she looked quite as cool as ‘Syn,’ but she couldn’t worry about it as she played, her eyes half closed as she envisioned the notes on the staff while she played them. Occasionally, she would glance at Brian and find his heavily-lidded eyes on her, but she couldn’t tell if he was impressed or still peeved.</p><p>“Alright, class, let’s discuss.”</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The demonstration turned into a Q&amp;A with Brian about different parts of the song - with Finn in for the assist when he needed to re-demonstrate. He discussed the concept of the album and then the process which he and Zacky used to write.</p><p>“Shadows got us all on a bit of an artificial intelligence and space kick. There was a point there when I had three Carl Sagan books on my coffee table and was listening to Neil Degrasse Tyson as I read Stephen Hawking. It was really insane. But we got into this kind of… Metal for Astronauts, Artificial Intelligence kind of headspace. But the way we write is really guitar-based. When Matt writes, when Jimmy used to, we all sit down with a guitar.”</p><p>Findlay tucked a foot under the opposite thigh, absently strumming as Brian answered question after question. He was a fantastic sport. A really, really good-looking, fantastic sport. With a sigh, she found herself playing a bit of Trashed and Scattered - another really good example of mastery of twin guitars - and was surprised to hear Brian quietly join in with Zacky’s part even as he answered questions. He really was a fantastic guitarist.</p><p>“Question for Findlay. How is it you know so much of Avenged’s repertoire? Do we chalk this up to your strange and vast knowledge of all things guitar?” Finn paused thoughtfully, her lips pursed as she worked through a particularly difficult section of solo before she answered.</p><p>“So the Heathens were on tour with Avenged in the UK like, a month or two ago now, right Brian?” He nodded, ignoring that she used his real name instead of his stage name. “Anyway, we did the UK leg with them, and Zacky had to leave tour for a bit -”</p><p>“- knocked up his wife. And they didn’t even name the kid after me.”</p><p>“It was a girl, Brian.”</p><p>“Brian’s a pretty name for a girl.”</p><p>“Anyway,” Findlay rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath as she focused back on the optimistic youth who had asked her the question. “So the guys asked if I could fill in for him. It’s really hard to stand someone who’s not Zacky next to this guy, so it really was an honor. But he also made me practice until my fingers bled. That’s the long answer to a short question, sorry love.”</p><p>Most of the students knew Finn even if she didn’t know them by name. She taught the occasional masterclass and was often around to demonstrate - something less than an adjunct, but more than a TA on campus. She got a paycheck from Berklee that basically all went toward her student loans.</p><p>“Brian-slash-Synyster. Who would you say are your greatest influences?” Did these kids even read the interviews, Finn thought as she glanced at the black-haired guitarist, her fingers shifting to play Slayer’s Raining Blood.</p><p>“Slash. Dimebag. Holdsworth. Lombardo.” He sounded like he practiced that progression in the mirror - hitting rock, metal, jazz and punk all in one fell swoop.</p><p>“Findlay, same question.”</p><p>“Ah, fuck, you have to ask me that while I’m sitting next to Brian? Avenged was big for me growing up. Metallica, obviously. Children of Bodom - Laiho fucking shreds. Dire Straits. Oh, uh, Prof is frowning. Royce Campbell. Check him out if you haven’t.”</p><p>“Do you have a stage name?”</p><p>“Nope. Just Findlay.”</p><p>“Beer Goddess. She’d bring us beers on stage.” Finn shook her head, sweeping her waist-length hair back over her shoulder so she could focus on a bit of Gojira.</p><p>“Alright, folks. It’s about that time. We’re going to have to let Finn and Brian go.”</p><p>Finn had always been mildly impressed at how quickly a classroom could clear out, especially when there was a rockstar at the front. She took Brian’s guitar from him as he chatted with a few of the students who had decided that staying was more important than whatever they were going to do next - mostly women - hopping up to sit on the edge of the desk.</p><p>“Thanks for this, Finn. Really.” Guy clapped a hand on her shoulder after she put up the guitars, coiling the cords up to set on top of the pair of amps she had just turned off.</p><p>“I just hope this gets me off the hook for vanishing for a bit.”</p><p>“Aren’t you guys slated to play Las Rageous in Vegas soon?”</p><p>“Not exactly soon. We’ve got a couple weeks, about a month.”</p><p>“What are you going to do about Jay?”</p><p>“Not sure yet. We’ll have to get a stand in and then start the process of finding someone permanent. I have a feeling we’ll be in touch about that.”</p><p>“Fuck, that’s not fun.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. Luckily I know a guy with some expertise in finding a new drummer.” She gestured to Haner, who was discussing his penchant for minor thirds with one of the students - a cute blonde, Finn noticed.</p><p>“Not gonna lie, Finn, I’m proud of where you’re going. I knew you were destined to be great, but I mistakenly had pegged you for a guitar tech.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck you Guy,”</p><p>“Don’t be offended, I do that to everyone with perfect pitch.” She rolled her eyes, leaning against the amp with her arms crossed over her chest. “You and your brother are going to be something.”</p><p>“Something like that?” She jerked her head toward Brian, who was nodding as one of the students tried to explain what she meant about solo theory. A cute girl with fire-engine red hair. She wasn’t jealous so much as impressed with the aura that surrounded the man - and why, when he was surrounded by so many beautiful women, he would want to be with her.</p><p>“He’s got ten years on you.” Finn quirked a brow. “In the business. How long have the Heathens been a band?”</p><p>“We’re closing in on five years, so you’re right.”</p><p>“The cusp of mainstream.” Guy nodded. “You’ll get there. Get a good drummer. Ride some publicity. Be careful about dating the talent.”</p><p>She shot him a level look, trying to decide if she should jab back or not, turning a ring on her finger. They still hadn’t recovered the ruby after a week and a half - and after tearing the apartment apart. Jay had to have taken it, she imagined. It was probably down in evidence. She could hear Brian’s conversation with the students start to die down as he fiddled with a pack of cigarettes in his hand, obviously ready to be out of the spotlight for a minute.</p><p>“I’ll consider your advice, Guy. Thanks. I’ll be back for the masterclass next week.”</p><p>“Hit a nerve?”</p><p>“Yup.” She tossed her head and walked up the stairs to grab her notebook from where they had abandoned it in the top row, leaning in the doorway as she observed Brian and the girls. As he stood to walk out, they followed him, still tittering nervously as they tried to seriously discuss theory with them.</p><p>“So I typically use a drop D. I think Findlay has used drop C, right?” Finn almost barked a laugh at how masterfully Brian dragged her back into conversation with the girls.</p><p>“You guys used it back in Sounding, didn’t you? But yes, I like to drop the C. It gets meaty. When you’re the only guitarist, that can be important. But that’s not to say that I don’t tune back up to standard too.” Finn had the feeling that the girls were only tolerating her so that they could talk to Haner. “You can’t be afraid of different tunings. You just need to be aware if you’re in a show that you need to get a different guitar.”</p><p>“Or tune down on stage. Which is possibly one of the most impressive things I’ve seen Findlay do.” He grinned at the petite guitarist, who led them toward the street so they could light cigarettes. The three girls and guy finally started taking Findlay seriously.</p><p>“You tune on stage?”</p><p>“In front of a packed stadium. I’ve never seen Zacky’s tech get so angry.”</p><p>“It’s really not fair, I have perfect pitch so I take advantage,”</p><p>“Don’t sell yourself short, Finn. There was once my guitar slipped out on a solo and she was next to me. Reached over and fixed it without missing a note. It almost fucked me up because I was about to fret up and adjust.”</p><p>Finn lit her cigarette to hide how nervous she was - being showered with compliments publicly was enough to turn her chest red. She tuned out for a moment as he cell began to ring, fishing for it in her pocket while juggling her jacket, the notebook and her cigarette.</p><p>“Findlay,”</p><p>“Sup sis. Good news. We can get him out. He’ll try to sue because we don’t want to give him royalties. But when he’s convicted, we’ll be able to expel him permanently. We’ve gotta do a statement, though.” Tor sounded to be in good spirits, and with good reason. This was fantastic news. Finn paced away from Brian and his new posse, giving him a significant look. The black-haired guitarist nodded and continued to distract the students.</p><p>“Trial’s right after Las Rageous. We need a stand in.”</p><p>“Aren’t Avenged going to be there? Brooks and Jay use the same kit.”</p><p>“That’s a lot to ask,” Finn murmured, even though Brian had suggested it hours earlier.</p><p>“They owe us. We leant them our best guitarist,”</p><p>“I’m your only guitarist, Tor.”</p><p>“Which is why you’re the best. Anyway. Ask Brian.”</p><p>“He offered. I have to talk to the guys about what happened.” The prospect wasn’t something she looked forward to. She hadn’t even told Guy the whole truth.</p><p>“Good first step, Finn. It’s going to have to be addressed eventually.”</p><p>“God I wish it didn’t. Listen, I have to go save Bri from some horny college students. Love ya,”</p><p>“See you at home. Drinks?”</p><p>“You bet. Need me to do a pick up from Max’s guy?”</p><p>“We already stopped by. Walking home from the T now.”</p><p>“Kay. See you in twenty.”</p><p>Finn popped the phone back into her pocket and wandered back to Brian, who leaned now against the side of the building, working on what must have been his second cigarette.</p><p>“Hey kids, sorry to be the bad guy, but I’ve gotta take him away. We’ve got time for one more question.” She felt like his publicist, a publicist who stole cigarettes from the talent to smoke during interviews.</p><p>“Are you single?” It was the blond girl. Finn spluttered a laugh, waving them off as she walked toward the car, interested in what Brian’s answer would be but not enough to want to wait around to hear it. She wasn’t jealous by nature, and was generally unusually private with her love life despite being known as a bit of a player. It was refreshing to find someone who generally felt the same way - even though she was starting to get the feeling he was desperate to be able to show her off.</p><p>“Nope. Thanks guys, it was nice to chat,” The lavender-haired guitarist had made it about three steps before he separated himself from the college students and slipped a tattooed arm around her narrow shoulders.</p><p>“Well if that didn’t get the message across,”</p><p>“Hey, I didn’t say I was dating you,”</p><p>Findlay chuckled as they got into the car.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I want a tattoo.”</p><p>Findlay lay on the couch with her feet over the back between her boyfriend and her bassist, bare toes tapping to the sound of Brian’s guitar. They weren’t composing - not after the class - and he was playing Cemetery Gates by Pantera. And doing a really great job. She might have been slightly stoned.</p><p>“Isn’t that a constant state for you, Findlay? Will you ever stop?”</p><p>“Nope. But that’s funny, coming from you, Brian,” She looked up at the man, distracted by his fingers on the neck as he played an acoustic version of the killer Cemetery Gates solo. “You’re covered.”</p><p>“I never thought I’d have so many. It’s a little ridiculous.”</p><p>“Well, maybe Tory has time to work on my sleeve today? Before we get any more fucked up.” Tor pulled out his phone to call the artist in question, who still had work to be done on his wolf and evergreen trees sleeve.</p><p>“What would you get, Finn?” Max asked as he passed her the bowl around her brother, who leaned back into the couch, which she smoked upside down. After Brian took the apparatus from her fingers, she held out her right hand and flipped it toward herself.</p><p>“Viking compass. Here. And maybe a few more little finger tats because I want them.”</p><p>“You have so many already,” Max murmured, tapping out the cashed bowl.</p><p>“I have many separate tattoos. I have way less ink than you three. So shut it!”</p><p>She could practically hear Brian roll his eyes as Tor got his artist on the phone. It was a Tuesday, so the shop was slow enough that they could drag their happy asses down the street.</p><p>Finn stood on her tiptoes at the counter, watching Nora draw. She had done her space sleeve, so when the lavender-haired guitarist found out she was free for the day, she had requisitioned the platinum blonde to work on her palm and a few other choice tattoos.</p><p>“Dude, that’s going to fucking hurt.” Brian murmured into her ear, having wrapped his arms around her shoulders.</p><p>“Actually, it won’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be. Your palms are pretty meaty, so it won’t be pain like your ribs. But the skin can be pretty sensitive.” Nora noted absently, reaching for Finn’s hand as she adjusted the size of the compass to fit. It wasn’t truly a compass, more like a double X with eight points and different symbols on each point, with the aim of guidance and protection from harm. Finn looked up at Brian, who kissed her forehead.</p><p>“It’s pretty fucking metal.” He murmured, watching Nora work with his chin on top of the lavender-haired guitarists’ head.</p><p>“Finn, go have a damn cigarette or something, I’m almost done.” She also had the outlines of another pagan tattoo - the wiccan symbol for the goddess - for the side of the opposite palm. Obediently, she uncurled from Brian’s arms and walked outside, where her brother paced back and forth. He was smoking a cigarette, something he usually didn't do to protect his voice.</p><p>“You gonna need another pack, Toric?” She teased, as her brother pulled her to his chest. She lived her life tucked into small, warm spaces, Finn mused with a giggle.</p><p>“I’m excited to have it done. I can’t believe you’re getting a palm tattoo.”</p><p>“I’m so hard,” She quipped, lighting her cigarette. Tor gave a start, as if the flick of her lighter sparked some memory, and he reached for his pocket.</p><p>“I can’t fucking believe I forgot. I found this,” He pulled a ring out of his pocket, dusting off the lint before he handed it to her. “It was under the TV. I can’t believe we didn’t look there.”</p><p>“My ring!” The horizontally-set ruby looked no worse for wear as she slipped it back onto her right ring finger, giving it a spin for good measure. She was going to have to take all of them off soon, but it was comforting to have it back after missing it for two weeks. “I’m so glad you found it. Thanks, T.” She hugged him hard around his broad ribs, resting her head on his chest. Her brother stroked her hair for a moment, squeezing her.</p><p>“Come on Finby, let’s get tatted up.”</p><p>“You go, I’m gonna finish this.” She helf up her cigarette as she ducked to the side, leaning against the building as he walked back inside. Finn was about to throw her butt out when Max showed up - coming back from the corner store with cigarettes and a pair of four packs of Strongbow.</p><p>“Thought you’d be under the gun by now, Finn!”</p><p>“Just about time. Gimme one of those,”</p><p>She snapped open the can of cider as they walked back into the shop - looking for Nora and Brian. Tor sat in his seat as Troy worked on him, and Brian leaned on the wall beside him, watching Nora prep her station. Finn washed her hands and returned, holding out her palm for a stencil. Even Tor watched with interest as Finn inspected the placement on the palm of her strumming hand - it would have worn out faster on her fret hand from rubbing against the neck of her guitar - as she sat down in the chair.</p><p>“I’m a little nervous, Nora.”</p><p>“Don’t be, you’ve always sat well,” Nora touched the needle to her palm, starting to work on the lines pointing from her forefinger toward her wrist.</p><p>“Oh, fucking hell,” Finn felt a tear well up in the corner of her eye as she fought the urge to close her fist or yank her hand away. “Oh god that’s so bad,”</p><p>“It’s not gonna be a long one, Findlay, hang in there.” Her artist soothed her as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back in the chair. “Seriously, try not to move,”</p><p>A hand clamped over her wrist and her fingers, and she realized Brian was hovering over her, sitting on the edge of the tattoo chair to hold her down. The necklace he always wore - a piece of Jimmy’s drum kit on a long chain - fell out of his shirt and dragged across her chest, catching on the loose fabric of her cut up t-shirt. Findlay moaned a curse and leaned her head back again, her other arm over her eyes dramatically.</p><p>“It can’t be that bad, Finn, quit your whining,”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, Brian, it’s a bitch. You wouldn’t be in better shape.”</p><p>“Tell you what,” She cracked one eye open to look at the black-haired guitarist. “If you sit through this - no getting up for a cigarette, the whole thing - I’ll get that tattoo.”</p><p>“Oh shit, Brian, it’s on,” Tor watched from his chair, sharing a Strongbow with Max. Nora pulled away and allowed Finn to move her hand for a moment as she put ink on her gun, looking up at Brian.</p><p>“So you just want the same stencil?”</p><p>“You're confident,” The guitarist murmured as Finn slugged down a good deal of her cider, clutching the can to the side of her face. Fuck it hurt. The pain was searing - she could actually feel the needles when they pierced her skin, tearing at the lines of her palm.</p><p>“She's gonna sit for this. I know Finn. You just dared her.” Her twin grunted in agreement with the artist, who finished her second line. “It's not a long sitting. Just hard.”</p><p>“Really fucking hard,” The lavender-haired guitarist hissed through clenched teeth, holding the top of the can hard - where she knew she wouldn't crush it.</p><p>“You gonna hold my hand open for me?”</p><p>“Anything for you, babe,” Finn managed sarcasm through a bared snarl, staring up at the ceiling. A camera snapped a picture and she almost kicked her bassist in the chin. “Don't you dare, Max,”</p><p>“Snapchat. Dear. Tor has a flattering one up too.”</p><p>“Fuck you, man,” Tor sounded shaky and Finn glanced over at her twin who looked a bit pale.</p><p>“Get him some water,” She murmured, finishing her cider and crushing the can maliciously between her palm and the arm of the chair. The cylinder was almost perfectly flat as she ground her free palm into it, her rings digging into her skin as a welcome distraction from her tattoo. “I need another cider. Please.”</p><p>Finn was certain her courtesy was what made the guitarist and bassist staring at her laugh, probably not the fact that she had crushed her tall can in pain. Which was now a projectile. Which she lobbed as Max as best she could without moving.</p><p>The bassist caught the can and deposited it in the trash as Tory warned the quartet about being too rowdy. Finn sighed as Nora scratched into her palm, thankful that Brian held her fingers down. They tried to curl up of their own accord, and she couldn't control them. Her forearm started to shake from the effort of not yanking her hand away as Nora began the details at each end of the compass.</p><p>“You gonna be ok?” Brian murmured, stroking her forearm with his thumb. Finn nodded resolutely, using her free hand to open the Strongbow and take a sip.</p><p>“It's almost done, Finn.” Nora was starting on one of the last spokes of the compass, and the black lines and semicircles were starting to come together and look complete.</p><p>“Fuck I'm gonna have to get that next aren't I?” The black-haired guitarist murmured as Nora finished the last solid black line, wiping at Findlay’s palm. There was still residual pain, but the relief of not having a needle stuck in her palm was almost euphoric.</p><p>“Oh, you don't have to,” Finn looked up at him, her eyes twinkling as the artist applied lotion to her hand and waved her off to stand. Brian helped her to her feet, and she stared at her hand, flexing it. “But I might not let you live it down if you don't,”</p><p>“Well, it looks pretty fucking cool. Want to have a cigarette while I try not to cry about this?”</p><p>Finn grinned. Nora needed a minute to prep his stencil anyway, so she walked out with the poofy-haired guitarist for a cigarette, passing by her brother so she could look at the progress on his tattoo.</p><p>“Remind me not to make any more bets with you,” Brian murmured, holding the lighter out for her cigarette. She held the tip over the flame, looking up at the tawny-eyed man.</p><p>“It's just feats of strength. Sporting bets I avoid.”</p><p>“I'll keep that in mind.” He murmured before he French inhaled from his cigarette. It was all she could do to keep herself from tearing off his clothes then and there. “Hungry?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You're staring at me and biting your lip,” Brian's lips touched hers, his hand on her shoulder. She let her tongue slip past his lips, deepening their kiss with her newly tattooed hand gently on his forearm. He swept her body into his, bearing down on her mouth. When they parted, her back was against the cool bricks outside the shop, and they both panted. She was surprised to find her fingertips tucked into the top of his pants, under his shirt.</p><p>“Woman, my palms are all sweaty and now I have to go get a tattoo,”</p><p>“And I need to change my pants, you dick,” She whispered into the crook of his neck, into the stubble of her chin. Finn nipped at his skin, followed by a sweet kiss.</p><p>“If you were feeling better I swear to god…”</p><p>Findlay nuzzled her chin into his shoulder for a moment before she pulled away for a breath of her cigarette. As she breathed in smoke, she looked up at him with lusty eyes.</p><p>“God I want you, Bri.”</p><p>He smiled sadly and tweaked her nose with a long finger, breathing in smoke.</p><p>“Don't push yourself, babe. Come on, I have a palm to get tattooed.”</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two hours later, Tor’s sleeve was finished and Brian’s palm was bloody.</p><p>“Fuck, I don't know how you sat through that so easily, Finn.” She had to practically sit on his arm to keep him from jerking away - she had actually had to sit in his lap to hold his hand open for Nora. There was a funny Snapchat of the affair on Max’s channel. Where Finn’s palm had taken twenty minutes, Brian's had taken almost the full hour and a half between cigarette breaks and moments to stretch and shake out his hand.</p><p>“It would have been better if you weren't such a wuss, Brian!” Max punched the guitarist's shoulder as the quartet walked down the street. Brian went to punch him back but seemed to realize he held his cigarette in his good hand and didn't want to flex his freshly-inked palm.</p><p>“Thanks Max. Really.” Brian rolled his eyes. “Where are we going anyway?”</p><p>“Pub! I think the three of you need drinks.”</p><p>“And you getting one is just a bonus?” Finn walked with her twin, an arm around his waist for support. Tor was feeling lightheaded after his tattooing and definitely needed food. And a drink.</p><p>Max laughed and ducked into the bar. It was one of their favorite haunts, a little place called Exiles. Where the pours were strong and the bartender, who was also the owner of the place, knew their drinks when they walked into the bar.</p><p>“Mackie, sir, we need a round plus a Guinness!”</p><p>“God damn it, Max. We need a fucking hamburger or something for Tor. He might die.” Finn piped, helping her brother into one of the high-backed bar stools next to Haner.</p><p>“Three of you looks worse for wear and Max is in a good mood… what did you guys get into, Findlay my dear?” The burly, bearded bartender offered a hand to Brian, who accepted the handshake with a wince. “Mackie, nice to meet you. Is it a Guinness?”</p><p>“Brian, same. And I think I need a Jack and Coke today, but I wouldn't usually fight you on that.” Brian almost dug his tattooed hand into his hair, but thought better of it at the last minute.</p><p>“Alright, what are the three of you up to?” Mackie asked as he poured them drinks - grapefruit vodka and Sprite for Finn, Jack and Coke for Brian and Tor and a rum and Coke for Max. As he poured, Finn loosened the wrapping around her right palm and opened her hand, showing off her new ink. She had another on the side of her left palm and a tiny one on her wrist that she shared with Tor, but she left them covered.</p><p>“New tattoos? On your hand? Findlay, I hate to break it to you but you might be an addict.”</p><p>The lavender-haired guitarist grinned as the bartender took her hand in both of his to inspect the new ink.</p><p>“It's a Viking compass, means protection and safe travels.” She supplied.</p><p>“You shoulda gotten it before you left for England.” Mackie released her hand, looking at Tor and Max. “Say. I know this guy has his own band, so where's Jay?”</p><p>They all winced at the question, something they hoped they could avoid. Troy and Nora hadn’t asked, so it seemed as though they had gotten off scot free. Mackie never missed anything, though.</p><p>“Jail, at the moment.” Tor’s voice was unsteady but angry. He really didn’t sit well for tattoos, and had pushed himself too hard, Finn mused as she rubbed his back. Max and Brian had varying looks of glowering on their faces on the other side of her brother.</p><p>“Jesus, what did he do? Do you need bail money?”</p><p>“He can fucking rot there,” Finn murmured, reaching for her drink with her fingertips to take a sip. Instead, she finished drinking the short drink in one go. Mackie’s eyebrows almost shot off his forehead.</p><p>“The fuck did he do?” Absently, the bartender reached for shot glasses, making one of Finn’s favorite shots - a redheaded slut. And a glass of water for Tor, as if he sensed the man needed to hydrate.</p><p>“He kicked the shit out of Finn a couple weeks ago.” Max supplied, accepting the shots Mackie pushed toward him and Brian. She appreciated the guys for holding the rape card close - she didn’t want the Heathens to end up being known for the altercation.</p><p>“It’s gonna be hard to replace that shithead,” The lavender-haired guitarist murmured, fingering the edge of her shot glass. After a moment of reflection - or forceful lack thereof, as she tried not to relive the forensics report for the millionth time - she threw back the shot, taking her brother’s for good measure.</p><p>“Fuck him. Why would he do that? Didn’t think the kid had a mean bone in his body.”</p><p>“I think it was a jealous bone,” Three heads turned toward Brian - the fourth slowly lowered until it rested on his good arm on the table.</p><p>“I don’t think you’re wrong, really.” Tor’s voice was muffled by his tattooed arm and the table. Again, Finn sympathetically rubbed his back, knowing he’d be right as rain after a hamburger or something. “He’s always had a thing for Finn.”</p><p>“He didn’t like it when you stayed with Avenged, either. He wanted you to come back and work on the album.”</p><p>“Why didn’t I know this?” She regarded Max fiercely, since her brother had buried his head in his arms. Good defense, that. “You didn’t think it might be important for me to know something like that?”</p><p>“Kids, kids,” Mackie took a hamburger from one of the kitchen staff - business was unsurprisingly slow on a Tuesday afternoon - and set it in front of Tor as he slowly lifted his curly head. Finn hopped off her stool to avoid the smell of red meat and moved to sit next to Max at the far end of the group. “Whatever happened happened. It sucks but it did. Just be glad you don’t have to deal with him any more.”</p><p>“Ah, but we do. We have to sue. I have to go to trial to make sure he fucking goes away. We can’t find a new drummer until we remove him. It’s gonna be a rough couple months, Mack.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, kids.” Mackie put a double in front of the slight guitarist, reaching to squeeze her good hand. “Wait, was this a… romantic jealousy? Did he...”</p><p>Findlay looked away from the bartender with a grimace, her nose wrinkled as she stared toward the back of the bar.</p><p>“Fucking hell, Findlay. Every opportunity I’ve had to lay fists on that kid…”</p><p>“It’s kind, Mackie. It’s all going to work out.” He regarded her with that sad look people had been giving her a lot recently, and she sighed, patting the back of his hand. Finally, she reached for her drink, taking a long swallow.</p><p>“We still gotta discuss a drummer for Las Rageous, Finn.” Max said, stealing fries off Tor’s plate and getting a smack in the hand for his trouble. “I mean, whenever Tor feels like a person again, I guess.”</p><p>“I told you, Brian said we can ask Brooks.”</p><p>“I do say. We owe you, we’re going to be there, Brooks plays the same kit.” Brian interjected. He always got antsy when the trio talked about band things around him like he wasn’t there. Well, band things regarding his band.</p><p>“Do we call them? The bar’s practically our office anyway,” Brian sighed as the pair continued to chat over his head - or, rather, beside his head.</p><p>“You should do a conference call before you get too drunk,” He grumbled, tapping his phone on the bar with his bandaged hand.</p><p>“Tor?”</p><p>The singer waved a hand as he attacked his fries - dousing them with malt vinegar. The twins shared a very quirky fear of ketchup, which neither of them could explain, and thus avoided the condiment at all costs. The black-haired guitarist picked up his phone and sent a text to his bandmates, checking their availability.</p><p>“So what brings a guy like you all the way out here?” Mackie asked, as Finn perused the menu she had practically memorized, deciding on an appetizer. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to see Brian jerk a thumb in her direction as Mackie burst out laughing. “Man, I’m sorry, that one’s a force of nature,”</p><p>“Mackie! I will have you know I have only been sleeping with one man for months.” Of her own free will, she added in her head, suppressing a wince.</p><p>“At a time?!”</p><p>“Oh, fuck you Mack!” Findlay flipped the bartender off with her good hand as the rest of her companions laughed. With a sigh, she swept her long hair up into a bun on top of her head, twisting it securely. “Fuck all of you.”</p><p>“Please don’t. That’d be gross.” Tor quipped, finally taking a sip of his drink.</p><p>“And it’d break your streak,” Brian added with a lopsided smile. She reached across the bassist to squash her finger into his nose, a move he hadn’t seen coming. He grabbed at her hand with his injured one, yanking it away as soon as he made contact with her wrist with a hiss.</p><p>“You’ve got one of the hand doo-dads too, eh? What’s your inadvisable design look like?”</p><p>“Same as hers,” The Avenged guitarist murmured, firing off a text before he looked up at Mackie. “Never bet against that girl. Bad shit happens when you do.”</p><p>“Are the guys around, Brian?” Tor asked, pushing away his empty plate. To Finn, it seemed as if he had licked every crumb off the thing. Mackie set the group up with refills before he took the plate back, making himself scarce while Brian dialed his band mates. Situated in the corner by the bright, sunny window, they were well away from the pair of patrons at the other end of the bar that Mackie went to talk with, spreading his gregarious personality around.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Findlay sipped her drink as Brian chatted with the members joining their call, until all five of them were on the line together. She slid around their bassist to perch on Brian’s knee near the speaker, so she didn’t have to shout about their predicament. The other two men leaned in.</p><p>“Hey guys,” Her tone was tentative - she felt tentative, poking at the edge of the wrapping on her right hand as Brian wrapped his arms around her shoulders protectively. The chorus of “sup, Finn?” and “Miss you’s” made her smile weakly.</p><p>“So. We have… News I guess?” There was patient silence on the other end of the phone as they waited for her to explain. “Uh, so Jay’s out of the band.”</p><p>“Why?” The question came from Matt - of course it did. Brian’s arms wrapped tighter around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.</p><p>“You don’t have to tell them,” He murmured, just quietly enough that the phone wouldn’t pick it up. Her bandmate and brother nodded in agreement, Tor reaching for her fingers and Max resting a hand on her back.</p><p>“I owe it to them. Y’all have been good to me. But this does not leave this fucking phone line or I will kill you slowly.” She could almost hear eyebrows being raised around the country. At least one cigarette was lit in the brief silence that followed as she took a deep breath, steeling her nerves.</p><p>“Last week, Jay came over to my house and drugged, beat and raped me.” There was a stunned silence, at least one phone was almost dropped, and Matt began to swear. Well, not swear.</p><p>“Fudging heck, Findlay, what the crap? Val, can you …?” Obviously, he had been doing something family-related. Finn would have giggled at the tirade if it wasn’t for the fact that the subject matter was a little sensitive.</p><p>“Fucking shit, man. That’s why you left in such a hurry, Brian? God damn it I feel like an asshole,” Johnny’s murmur was quiet, but she could tell he was pacing and having a cigarette.</p><p>“Are you ok?” Brooks asked tentatively, drumming on something too close to the phone.</p><p>“As well as I can be. Sorry for stealing your guitarist.”</p><p>“Oh shut the fuck up, Finn. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” Zacky finally piped, the giggle of his newborn in the background. “Stop it Meaghan, he can’t understand me yet.”</p><p>“But, uh, yeah. So we kind of have a favor to ask, all things aside.” She continued finally, after a few more rounds of creative profanity.</p><p>“Brooks? Would we be able to borrow you for a set at Las Rageous?” Tor asked, leaning into Brian’s phone on the bar as Finn reached for her drink with a shaky hand. Max passed it to her helpfully and she sipped it, curled into Brian’s chest as he leaned his face into her neck.</p><p>“We can’t hire a new drummer until Jay is sentenced and expelled, and the trial date is after Las Rageous,” Max explained, patting Finn’s shoulder sympathetically.</p><p>“God damn, absolutely. Do you guys have sheet music at all?” Brooks sounded genuinely excited - she had heard him talk about the fun licks they had in their music before, so Finn wasn’t absolutely shocked that he would be eager to fill in.</p><p>“Yep, Finn makes it for all our songs.”</p><p>“Damn, that’s smart. Want to work on ours, Finn?” Matt asked with a raspy laugh.</p><p>“I don’t think I have that much free time, Matt,” The petite guitarist chuckled as the black-haired man settled his mouth and nose into the intersection of her shoulder and neck, waiting.</p><p>“Well, I don’t have a problem with it. Is anyone morally opposed to loaning out Brooks?”</p><p>“Don’t wanna, don’t like them that much. When has Finn ever helped us before?” Zacky quipped dryly, sounding for all the world like he was bouncing his infant son in his arms.</p><p>“Any other bombshells for us? Did you murder the motherfucker?” Johnny asked.</p><p>“It’s not out of the question,” Tor’s murmur was dangerous, and was echoed by the men beside her. Finn shook her head.</p><p>“Y’all don’t get it. If anyone’s going to fucking kill him, it’s me.” It was only half a joke, but dispelled some tension anyway.</p><p>“Ok, well, you kids get to fucking drinking for us old men.”</p><p>“Who are you calling an old man, Matt, I’m going out tonight.” Johnny countered.</p><p>“I’m coming with!” Zacky must have been a little too loud because the baby started to cry. “Ah, fuck. Gotta go, catch you cats on the flipside. Take care of him, Finn.”</p><p>She didn’t need to ask who he meant as the guys all made similar dismissals and Brian pressed a calloused fingertip into the screen to hang up and wrapped his arms back around the lithe guitarist, squeezing her tightly.</p><p>“You’re pretty fucking brave, sis,” Tor rubbed her arm gently, and she disentangled herself from Brian’s firm grasp to sink her nose into her twin’s burly chest. Her twin rubbed his hand over her back, soothing her back from the verge of tears.</p><p>“It feels… better. To get it off my chest.” She admitted finally, after a long breath. Tor released her and she leaned against the bar, looking for Mackie and his shots. “But. Anyway. No sympathy, let’s have fun!”</p><p>“Sit here and drink all night?” Max sighed, leaning back over the edge of the barstool his fingers clasped behind his neck as he stared up at the ceiling.</p><p>“I mean, there’s gotta be something going on in this town,” Brian pulled out his phone, flipping it in his fingers Finn-style before he stopped, typing in a search for shows.</p><p>“I have a better solution. Yo, Mackie! The fuck is going on tonight?” Tor called, drawing the bartender back to them. Brian pulled the lavender-haired guitarist into his side, a hand in her back pocket, his thumb running over the black fabric of her jeans. Seriously, with how badly she wanted to pull him into bed, a show would have been a welcome distraction.</p><p>“There’s a little band playing over at ‘Dise.” Mackie called, pointing his finger along the rail drinks until Finn called for him to stop - she was going to regret mixing so many alcohols together in the morning, but she wanted another redheaded slut.</p><p>“What band?” She asked, as the bearded bartender began to mix shots with a shrug.</p><p>“Oh, fuck, Highly Suspect!” The bassist had pulled up the small venue’s show schedule. “On a Tuesday though?”</p><p>“Aren’t they from the Cape? Maybe it’s just a little surprise show. Want me to shoot Amy a text?” Finn had gone to school with the current manager of the little venue near Harvard Square - she often called on the Heathens if they had a gig fall through late on a Saturday or Sunday and needed a fill-in.</p><p>Not waiting for an answer, Findlay shot off a text to her friend, pocketing her phone as Mackie presented her with a shot, pushing the others to the guys. He held one of his own.</p><p>“Alright kids, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, when you go out tonight,”</p><p>“So do literally anything?” Max raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“Right, go buck wild.” He cheered to the group, clinking glasses together between he and Finn.</p><p>“I’m not even sure when we’re leaving Mack, are you kicking us out?” Tor asked, stacking his shot on top of his twin’s. He had some serious catching up to do with the rest of the drinkers, that was certain.</p><p>Findlay pulled her phone back out, looking at Amy’s text.</p><p>“Well, I’m gonna go grab a jacket and then get a cigarette in with Ames before the show, are you dickheads coming with me?” She asked, looking at the guys.</p><p>“Here, have my jacket, then we’ll just go straight to Amy.” Her twin plopped his flannel down on her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow poignantly at his exposed arms, one of which was covered with cling film.</p><p>Suddenly, Brian piled his jean jacket on her shoulders over the flannel, and max followed suit with his hoodie. Drowning in jackets, Findlay shook her head.</p><p>“So I've gone from none to three. What are you three going to do while I'm toasty warm tonight?”</p><p>“Huddle around a trash fire,” Brian shrugged, throwing cash down on the bar with what max and Tor had thrown down earlier.</p><p>“Put on a great drunk blanket.”</p><p>“Flex my muscles until some babe takes me home,” Tor’s smile was wicked as he yanked his flannel from beneath her jacket pile.</p><p>Findlay rolled her eyes, checking to see how many smokes she had left as they hailed Mackie and walked out of the bar. She needed to stop for more, but there was a gas station between the bar and the not too distant venue.</p><p>“Do you know these kids, Haner?” Max asked, walking with Finn behind her lover and twin.</p><p>“Never met them but I've heard of them. They're that grunge rock business.”</p><p>The quartet walked down the street towards the venue, chatting as they tried not to trip on the cobblestone sidewalk. Brian reached to loop his fingers around Finn’s - something they had avoided doing since those fateful pictures in Germany months ago. The still slightly swollen guitarist smiled up at the black-haired man as he pulled her close, thumb stroking the back of her hand.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brooks waited on the far side of the stage with Max, shooting the shit from what Finn could tell as she leaned on an amp next to her brother. She checked her tuning one last, obsessive time, if only to distract herself from the fact that she still hadn’t seen Brian yet.</p><p>A week before Las Rageous - two weeks after leaving Boston for Huntington - he seemed to have grown distant, almost cold to her. Finn figured this meant it was the end of something she had certainly enjoyed, which was a pity because it seemed they had made it over the “end-of-tour” bump, not to mention the personal crisis bump. It had made her sad, distracted. Her bandmates had definitely picked up on it, walking on eggshells lest they get the sharp side of her tongue. The worst part was that she knew her behavior was outrageous and out of character and couldn't control herself.</p><p>Her brother rubbed her back as he pushed a beer into her hands.</p><p>“Stop thinking about it, Finn. We gotta put on a show, kid,” She leaned against her brother’s chest for a moment, hugging him with one arm as they waited to walk onstage. “It’s gonna be ok.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. Just not the end I wanted.”</p><p>“Who says it’s an end?” Tor asked, running a hand through her hair to tousle it. “Alright, kid, let’s get going,”</p><p>Finn ran onstage ahead of her brother as Brooks jumped into the drum set.</p><p>“What’s up Las Rageous!” They started to work through their first song, Finn standing on an amp downstage as she played a grandiose solo, focused on her playing and not her love life. It was a great distraction for an hour and a half.</p><p>“Alright, Las Vegas! We’re going to finish it up with something we’re borrowing from a little band called Trivium. Big thanks to our buddy Brooks for absolutely killing it tonight, right?”</p><p>Wild-eyed, Finn and Max both glared at the singer, who continued to banter with the crowd for just long enough for the pair to get back to their mics. They had played In Waves live before, and Finn took the majority of the singing while Max did the screaming. It was a fun mix-up, but usually they played it as an encore or as relief for Tor if he needed a vocal rest. It was a trick they had picked up from Avenged, who often would pull someone up on stage if Matt needed a break. Instead of grabbing a random person, the solution for the Heathens was to have Findlay and Max sing instead, but Tor flagged down the bassist to say he would be screaming for Finn instead.</p><p>Shaking her head ruefully with a glance and a gesture up to Brooks - were you in on this? Absolutely he was - and tossed her hair back over her shoulder as she took her stance beside her mic.</p><p>Her legs shook with resounding adrenaline and applause as she walked offstage, slinging off her guitar to pack it up. Still no Brian, she noted as she put the pair of guitars she had brought with her to the festival. Maybe, because Avenged was playing the second day of the festival, he hadn’t arrived yet. But it was still weird she hadn’t gotten a text yet.</p><p>“Why do I fucking care so much, Tor?” She asked, finishing her second beer of the show, crushing the can against her amp.</p><p>“Because you were in love, Finby. It hurts when it ends - if it’s ended.” Her brother wrapped his arms around her shoulders again, stroking her hair for a moment. “Come on, let’s go get a drink or something.”</p><p>With an arm over her shoulder, her brother steered her around toward the stage exit, leaving the stage hands to pack the rest of their gear up for them.</p><p>He was there. At the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the railing with a cigarette in his hand was Brian, staring at his boots. Tor looked down at his sister, hugging her to his side before he bounded down the stairs without so much as a nod for Haner. Finn was a little bit slower, holding her lavender hair away from her sweaty neck for a moment as she looked down the stairs at Brian, finally digging out a cigarette.</p><p>“Hey,” He murmured, looking up at the lithe guitarist at the top of the stairs, his expression unreadable with sunglasses on. Damn, she was going to hate to lose him. She stayed silent, lighting her cigarette as she clomped down the stairs in her Docs. “Can we talk?”</p><p>“That’d be a nice change.”</p><p>“Somewhere private?” Frustrated, Findlay gestured at the fairgrounds, as if to ask where the hell that would be. “We have our bus.” She gave him a look - why the fuck would they bring their bus if it was so easy to stay in hotels near the venue? The question went unasked and unanswered, hardly important to the discussion.</p><p>“Fine,” She followed him through the back of the stages, between RVs until they came up to the Avenged bus. Brian reached up to open the door and invited her up. She bounded up the stairs in front of him, trying not to wonder at the marvel that was their tour bus. There were bigger fish to fry.</p><p>“Finn,”</p><p>“Brian.” She glared at him levelly, wishing she had another drink to sip during the awkward silence. “Is this the part when you tell me it isn’t working out?”</p><p>“No, Finn. This is the part where I tell you I fucked up.” He leaned against the wall beside the couch, his sunglasses still on.</p><p>“How so?” She paused, her arms crossed. She could feel her temper starting to flare and tried to focus on relaxing, but snapped anyway. “Can you take off your fucking sunglasses?”</p><p>The guitarist pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them on the couch with his phone before he sat in the turned-around captain’s chair by the door.</p><p>“What is this about, Brian? I’ve been distracted for a fucking week, wondering what I’ve done wrong, thinking about this fucking ending. Do you know how stressful that is? Just tell me it’s fucking over and get it over with, I don’t have time for this song and dance.”</p><p>“That’s not it, Finn. Fuck, I’m sorry. This is how… Fuck!”</p><p>“How what, Haner? Quit fucking around and get it out.”</p><p>“I fucked someone else, Findlay. I got fucked up after a gig and fucking took some slut home. I didn’t want to tell you, but I can’t fucking lie. This is why I got divorced. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to do it again. I’m so fucking sorry, Findlay,” The words seemed to tumble out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the bedheaded guitarist looked like he would give anything to take it back.</p><p>Finn stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to work through his admonition, the look of true sorrow on his face. Was that the glint of a tear in his eye? This was seriously what they had both freaked out about for a week? After a moment of disbelief, she started to laugh. She couldn’t stop it, she laughed so hard she held her sides, leaning against their little kitchenette countertop for support. Brian’s face went from sorrow to anger.</p><p>“What the fuck, Findlay?” He stood, his fists clenched at his sides, tattooed arms bulging with the force of his anger. “You honestly think this is funny? I’m fucking apologizing to you, I fucked up. I ruined another relationship because I can’t keep it in my pants,”</p><p>“Is that really it? You fucked a chick?” Finn managed to breathe deeply enough to quit laughing, but still giggled at the other guitarist. “You’re really going to sit there and tell me you fucked up and this is over… because you had sex with someone?”</p><p>Haner stared at her, his anger dissolving into confusion as she walked toward him, crossing the distance in the bus in just a couple of steps. His body stiffened as she reached up to touch his cheeks with trembling fingers, holding his face steady as she stared into his tawny eyes. There were deep circles under them, like he hadn’t been sleeping, either.</p><p>“Bri,”</p><p>“Will you explain to me your reasoning on this?” Involuntarily, he touched his hand to hers on his cheek, his tattooed palm against the back of her hand, his fingers curling around hers. “Because I’ve been stressed about this, too.”</p><p>Wordlessly, Findlay pressed her lips to his, holding him tightly to her by his cheeks. Slowly, she slid her free hand down his side to the lip of his jeans, slipping under his boxer briefs to grab a handful of his ass.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Proving a fucking point. That door locked?” He nodded and she pulled him toward the back of the bus, where there was another door - and a bigger couch.</p><p>Wordlessly, she pushed him down onto the couch, her lips soft against his as she straddled him.</p><p>“What did she look like?”</p><p>“Hot young blonde,” He murmured, staring up at her as if trying to figure out what was going on.</p><p>“You used a condom?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>A smile twitched at the edges of her lips as she yanked down his pants, freeing him from the confines of his jeans. She bent down to take him in her mouth - as if she needed the lubrication - as she pulled off her jeans, kicking off her boots so she could strip. Brian seemed to have resigned himself to rolling with the punches, so to speak, his fingers twined behind his neck with a puzzled look on his face.</p><p>Findlay climbed on top of him, kissing him as she guided him inside of her. His sigh told her everything she needed to know in that moment - the girl he had slept with had simply been a placeholder. Slowly, she rode him, his hands creeping up her sides to relieve her of the tattered band shirt and bralette she wore, clinging to her as tightly as he could.</p><p>Just as he was about to finish, she stopped abruptly, grinding to a halt as she looked into his heavily-lidded tawny eyes.</p><p>“God woman, I don’t fucking get you,”</p><p>With a grin and a long kiss, she started again, her strokes long and excruciatingly slow for both of them. Brian threw his head back against the back of the couch, his eyes shut and his hands on her hips. As she felt him get close again, she stopped, and pulled his shirt up over his head so she could run her short nails down his chest. He hissed in pain, his eyes snapping open as his grip on her hips tightened.</p><p>Once again, she started to ride him - quicker now, but she still wouldn't let him find his finish.</p><p>“Fuck, Finn, I need you,” That was what she was waiting for.</p><p>“Do you?” She asked, her lips at his throat.</p><p>“Yes, fuck yes I need you.”</p><p>Finn nipped at his throat and rode him hard, continuing after his finish until she met hers, her lavender-haired head thrown back between her shoulders as he kissed the valley between her breasts. They both collapsed into the back of the couch, their arms around each other.</p><p>“I don't get you, Finn. I tell you I cheated and you give me the best sex of my life,” He murmured, one eye open to look down at her head, cradled against his chest. “I love you,”</p><p>She reached up to press her lips against his, feeling him shift inside her.</p><p>“And as long as you never say that to someone else, I don't give a shit what you do, Brian.” Her murmur was so lusty it surprised her, but she smiled at him, her hands back on either side of his face. “Does that make more sense?”</p><p>“I… no?”</p><p>“Was she as good as I am?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Did you need her?”</p><p>“No, but -”</p><p>“I don't give a fuck why you did it. The second you tell some floozie you love her, we’re over. But until that happens, it doesn't matter who you screw. You're still mine.”</p><p>His eyebrows climbed up his forehead, until finally he laughed, throwing his head back as his body shook against hers.</p><p>“Fuck you're incredible.”</p><p>“Practical. But I'll take it,” She kissed his exposed chin, realizing that she had left a trail of dark lipstick on his skin. Her lips quirked. “But Brian. This is a two way street. It only works if you feel the same way.”</p><p>“You've got experience with this?”</p><p>“With it not working? Yes. So I know I'm not going to sit in the tallest tower while you fuck everything with a slit.”</p><p>“Good to know.”</p><p>“Does that work for you?”</p><p>His hands fell on either side of her face and he kissed her deeply, thoroughly. Their tongues tangled and when he was done, she gasped for air.</p><p>“Just do me a favor. Don't tell me about it,” He said as she caught her breath, leaning away from him.</p><p>“Don't fuck anyone without protection.”</p><p>“I think that should go without saying, but I get it.”</p><p>Brian kissed her collarbone, nipping her painfully.</p><p>“Let's get cleaned up. We've got drinking to do - and not the kind the guys thought we would need.” His growl was deep against her throat.</p><p>She couldn't help herself as she started to move her hips against his. They didn't notice when the bus’s door opened, and were shocked when Matt threw open the back door.</p><p>“How did it g - oh fuck, come on!”</p><p>The pair giggled like teenagers as Matt slammed the door behind him.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I hope you kids cleaned up after yourselves, we basically live on that bus you know,” Zacky shook his finger under Finn’s nose, staring at Brian poignantly. They both shrugged.</p><p>“No man, I left a huge mess.”</p><p>“Semen everywhere.” The guitarists exchanged a look and laughed to themselves, all bright smiles of relief. Tor had given his twin a questioning look when the pair walked up to the “bar” together - it was really a big tent for bands who needed a refuge, with food and coolers of beer and nonalcoholic beverages. Apparently tales of their exploits had reached the tent before they did. Finn disentangled her fingers from Brian’s to bounce over to where the two members of her band waited, drawing them over to where their friends sat as she explained.</p><p>“He just slept with someone, huge misunderstanding,” She explained to her brother, as Max’s brow furrowed.</p><p>“That sounds like a big issue to me,”</p><p>“Oh, Max, I'd like you to meet my sister. This is Findlay Brogan O'Shaughnessey, the queen of fucked up relationship standards.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck you Tor. Just because it's not something I fucking care about doesn't mean I'm fucked up.”</p><p>“You're a little fucked up, Finby,”</p><p>With a sigh and a toss of her hair, she snagged two beers out of one of the coolers - a Guinness and a cider, to be precise - trailing behind her bandmates as they crossed the tent. She arrived just in time to hear Brian trying to explain what happened in the bus to Matt, whose eyebrows were about to climb right off his forehead.</p><p>“- to prove a point?” The singer asked quietly, as Finn pressed the Guinness into her lover’s hand.</p><p>“There are things you have to be realistic about when you live on opposite sides of the country and tour more often than not, Matt.” She sighed, brushing her long purple locks out of her hair. “I don't understand why that's so hard to grasp,”</p><p>Brian kissed the side of her forehead and steered her back to the group with a slap on the ass - apparently, the guys were talking about more than just her “fucked up relationship standards.”</p><p>“Denied!”</p><p>“Probably for the best. Don't want to get sick of him too quick,”</p><p>Tor was making eyes at some blonde or another, one wearing weird baggy pants and a tiny sports bra. Of course he would be busy connecting with the only woman in the tent he wasn't related to. Findlay sat at an empty chair between Zacky and Max, trying not to be bitter about being steered out of a conversation.</p><p>“You!” Finn’s lavender haired head snapped around as a heavy hand descended on her shoulder. “You're that guitar girl!”</p><p>“Just a guitarist. I think I'm aged out of the girl thing,” She murmured with a glare, tilting her neck to stare up at the man who spoke to her. He was tall and reedy, with burly shoulders and a shock of black curls. “Hi I guess?”</p><p>“Ha, you closed your set with my song and you don't recognize me? I don't know weather to be flattered or insulted.” After a moment of confusion, Finn gave a start and bounded to her feet, shaking the hand of who she now knew to be Matt Heafy, singer of Trivium.</p><p>“He's the Trivium fan.” She gestured to Max who was climbing to his feet beside her. “To be fair, I think the last picture I saw of you was with long hair,”</p><p>“Well I wanted to compliment you. That's a lot of parts to cover on one guitar.”</p><p>“I've got a great bassist.” She deflected to Max, noting that Tor had made himself quite scarce. “Couldn't do half the shit I do without Max.”</p><p>“Come grab a beer with us, Matt,” Johnny called from his side of the table, patting a chair. The singer seemed to consider for a minute before he nodded, glancing over at the coolers.</p><p>“I shouldn't but… fuck it. Anyone need a refill?”</p><p>The chorus of calls for beer was overwhelming, and Finn found herself walking with the man - who was as tall as her brother, she realized - chatting.</p><p>“I have a bone to pick about the solo. Or, Corey did.”</p><p>“Where is he with his bone?” Finn quipped with an insolent grin as Heafy loaded her waiting arms with beers.</p><p>“He said you did it better than he did. The improv hurt his pride.”</p><p>“Man, I hate it when I bruise delicate egos,” the shorter guitarist laughed as they walked back to the group, who had added a table to their place setting as the rest of Trivium joined them. With a frown, Finn considered the beers in her arms. “You know, we should just -”</p><p>“- bring the whole cooler?” Heafy paused, considering her and then the cooler.</p><p>“I'm stronger than I look, I promise,” Finn dumped her cargo back into the long cooler and looked up at the singer. “If you could just… hold it low?”</p><p>The much taller man laughed as he picked up his end, bending so he was level with Findlay’s much shorter grasp. Slowly, the pair walked it over to the ever-expanding group. Apparently, because Avenged had been touring for so long they knew almost every band playing the festival - and Brooks had been in Bad Religion before Avenged, so his tour friends were numerous as well.</p><p>Finn could hardly keep up with the new additions and what bands they were from. A lot of the people had music she listened to religiously, but had never put two and two together to put a face to the names. She had met some of them before, though, when the Heathens had played festivals. The bands they had toured with previously - they had gone on three tours in the past, opening for A Day to Remember, Children of Bodom and Apocalyptica - weren’t in attendance, so the younger band didn’t know as many people as Avenged did. The Heathens were much bigger in Scandinavia and the rest of Europe (and Russia, apparently, though they had never been) than their home market in the U.S. That didn’t stop the trio from making friends. Las Rageous was a rather small show - just two days in a parking lot a ten minute ride from the Vegas strip.</p><p>As she was telling a story of how during their inaugural tour a crazed crowd member had run on stage and ripped her shirt off and subsequently been tackled by her twin, a pair of familiar tattooed hands settled on her shoulders. Not the ones she had been expecting, though.</p><p>“Did you finish the solo, though?” Matt asked, looking down at her. She got the feeling he was deliberately trying not to look down her shirt, which she appreciated.</p><p>“I mean, I had a bra on, so yes. Then Max gave me his shirt and was the happiest camper in the world.”</p><p>“Got laid that night,” Max laughed at the retelling, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his neck. Finn reached out a booted foot to kick his toe, sending him tilting backward, arms flailing to keep himself from falling over.</p><p>“Where’s my brother?” She asked the bassist, but was answered by the singer with the arm over her shoulder.</p><p>“Chatting with Brian.” Findlay raised an eyebrow at the man as he moved to her side, but got no answer to her silent question. What the fuck were they talking about? She took a deep swallow of beer and focused back in on the conversation around them. Matt remained standing beside her, leaning with his forearm on her head. Later, Finn found that Heafy had snapped a picture and posted it to instagram, citing the “great leaning spots at #LasRageous this year,” tagging the diminutive guitarist and the singer.</p><p>It seemed the men didn’t have many similar stories of being disrobed onstage, so the talk turned to what had been thrown at them. They ranged from disgusting to bizarre.</p><p>“I mean, underwear isn’t exactly shocking, Zacky.”</p><p>“But these were huge! Like, I could have used them as a blanket.”</p><p>“How does that happen anyway? Like, do women bring spare panties to toss, or are they taking them off in the crowd? I’ve never seen it happen, in the crowd or on the stage.” Finn mused, slipping from under Sanders’ arm to grab a fresh beer for both of them.</p><p>“I chalk it up to the ‘feminine mystique.’ Can’t you just whip off your underwear whenever you want?” Heafy asked, holding open his hand for a beer as Finn was about to close the cooler. She tossed it to him across the circle of people - who had abandoned the tables promptly once realizing they weren’t as flexible as the crowd was - and pulled out a fresh one for herself.</p><p>“No, I can’t. Maybe that makes me a lesser woman,”</p><p>“I can’t believe anyone’s ever thought of you as lesser,” Brian kissed her cheek and yanked one of the beers away, as her brother closed in on the other side and relieved her of the second beer. With a sigh, she bent down to the cooler to retrieve beers yet again, spiking a fourth can at Matt and opening hers to gulp possessively as she straightened.</p><p>“I just don’t wear any, makes life easier.” That blonde. Finn had seen her somewhere, but she couldn’t place her face. Her nose wrinkled from a combination of consternation and disgust as Brian wrapped his free arm around her shoulder, tattooed palm dangling over her chest.</p><p>“How do you do that much laundry on tour?” She asked, and immediately wished she hadn’t as the girl glared bloody murder at her. “I mean, I just find it easier to buy more underwear than visit a laundromat, honestly.”</p><p>Some of the men around nodded, and not for the first time in her adult life, Finn wished she had another woman around for backup to her point.</p><p>“Ok, but I had a dildo chucked at my head once,” Brian interjected smoothly, breaking up a potential catfight with practiced ease.</p><p>“A what?”</p><p>“Fuck, I forgot about that Haner! He had a goose egg for a week after that,” Johnny laughed, looking over at his bandmate. “That was still during your fedora phase, though, so it coulda been a lot worse,”</p><p>“Like you hair phases were much better,” Haner displayed an elegant middle finger to the bassist, his tattooed palm curled inward.</p><p>“Oh boy. Guys, let’s not talk about hair, can we? It might make some people sensitive,” Zacky stage whispered, pointing at the Matts, who had certainly undergone some strange experiments with their locks.</p><p>There was a collective groan from the thirty-plus crowd around the horseshoe as they remembered the early days of the metalcore scene, where male eyeliner and black fingernails abounded. Tentatively, as the guys were recounting fashion disasters past and present, Finn reached her tattooed palm up to twine her fingers in Brian’s. The guitarist squeezed her hand gently, running his thumb along the side of her fingers. She eyed the beginning of a scratch above the deep neck of his shirt with a wry smile.</p><p>“Thanks for that,” He murmured as the rest of the group chatted, getting rowdier and rowdier. He squeezed her hand tightly. “Not sure what I’m going to wear tomorrow,”</p><p>“That’s such a trial for you, I’m sure,” She shot back in a whisper, wrapping her free arm around his waist as she looked up at him. “I’m lucky I can still walk, but you have to wear a t-shirt,”</p><p>“I could fix that,” He bent to press a kiss to her lips, ignoring her shock over the PDA. “What, Finn, when did you start giving a fuck?”</p><p>Her smile as bright as she rose onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, ignoring the dirty glare she got from the blonde-haired girl.</p><p>“I think that chick is going to revenge-bang my brother because I exist,” She whispered to Brian, settling back onto her heels.</p><p>“Good for her, I’m glad someone’s willing to fuck Tor,” The guitarist quipped, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket. “I worry about his sex life when I try to sleep at night.”</p><p>Finn let him steer her away from the crowd, searching for her own cigarettes in her pockets, as if she had so many to check. She crushed the filter of the Camel between her fingers as Brian held the lighter up, staring up at him with one eye closed against the sun. He jostled places with her so she faced the shade and he the sun.</p><p>“You’re incredible, do you know that?” The black-haired guitarist asked, holding his fingers out to hers. She didn’t pause to think and took his hand, holding it loosely as she gazed in wonder at the PDA. An arm around the shoulders was one thing - all of the guys used her as a kickstand because of her diminutive stature - but holding hands? Kissing in public?</p><p>“I mean, you keep saying things like that, but I’m not so sure. Is this because of the sex thing because really I don’t think it’s that weird.”</p><p>“No, that’s not the reason you’re incredible, you little ass. Though, I had to ask your brother…”</p><p>“If I was serious? You’re kidding right?”</p><p>“I didn’t want you to be making some sort of special dispensation for me.”</p><p>“You didn’t trust me?” Brian sighed, taking a drag of his cigarette. Finn could understand where he was coming from, though. It was generally something she tried to implement at the start of a relationship, not after a few months and a hell of a lot of temptation. She should have known better than to assume either of them would be any good at being a one trick pony.</p><p>“Digging myself a hole, aren’t I?”</p><p>“Way deeper than the one you were in before,” She raised an eyebrow as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.</p><p>“Thirty-five years old, I thought I had this dating thing figured out.”</p><p>“To be fair, I am a particularly difficult case. I have embraced that about myself.”</p><p>“Do I just apologize and move on?”</p><p>“If that makes you feel better. It’s not like I’m going to hold that against you. You needed a second opinion. Or a third, I guess?”</p><p>“Well, I’m sorry Finn. That makes me feel better. Are there any other ‘rules’ about this?”</p><p>Finn chuckled, smiling wryly at him as she pulled him down to her level for a peck.</p><p>“Don’t say ‘I love you,’ use protection, fess up.” She paused as his lips hovered above hers for a moment. “Don’t be petty. And it might go without saying, but this doesn’t apply if -”</p><p>“We’re close enough to be together.” He finished for her, kissing her gently, mindful of the prying eyes and her general distaste for excessive PDA - territory they were edging into. She squeezed his hand and let go, facing the tent. Luckily, most of the folks around were engrossed in the storytelling and weren’t paying attention to the guitarists.</p><p>“Are you sleeping with me tonight?”</p><p>“What, today wasn’t enough?” Brian asked with a wink, reaching out with his thumb to fix a smudge of her lipstick. She nipped at his finger.</p><p>“I meant in the hotel. If I only get you for a few days, I’m going to make them count.”</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finn sat on the edge of the hotel bed in her underwear, one foot curled underneath her, the toes of the other dangling over the carpet and her cell in hand.</p><p>“Ok, so we’re here until the end of May, and then we go to Europe. We’ve got Glastonbury.”</p><p>“How the fuck are you going to stand trial with a schedule like that? What about a drummer?” Brian asked from his position on the floor, his cheek rested against her knee and his back against the bed.</p><p>“We had to get a session drummer from Berklee. He’s pretty decent, if he clicks we might keep him. Talented, but I’m not sure personality-wise… Whatever, the drummer thing is fine for now. Trial’s during the week. So Tor and I have to fly back between Rebellion and RockFest. Won’t be pretty.”</p><p>“Do you want me there? I can be there. We’ll be at Rock on the Range and Rocklahoma with you, after.”</p><p>“No, you’ve got a tight schedule, don’t you? And I’ll be distracted and no fun.”</p><p>“Fun isn’t the point, Finn. I’m there if you need me.”</p><p>“It’s ok, Brian, really.” Absently Findlay ran her hand through his thick, dark mohawk, twisting the grown-out hair do into some semblance of normal before she massaged his scalp with her blunt fingertips. The guitarist grumbled something that sounded like a purr beneath her practiced hands. “But after that. Are you guys in Europe at all this summer?”</p><p>“We fly over for Rock am Ring and Ruisrock, actually, I know that you’ll be there,”</p><p>“Huh, did you know that little blonde that Tor’s fucking is in that Pretty Reckless band? They’re going to be all over the place with us this summer,”</p><p>“Hope he did a good job…” Brian murmured, turning to kiss the inside of her knee, sending a tiny thrill up her leg.</p><p>“That girl really did not like me,” Finn mused, still scratching her boyfriend’s head. God, she was too old to call him her boyfriend. She needed to find another term, she decided, looking down at him, sitting in his underwear with his eyes closed, lips resting against her bare leg.</p><p>“A lot of women don’t like you,”</p><p>“So I’ve learned. Is it something I’m doing wrong?” She sighed, dropping the phone on the bed as she fell onto her back, arms wide. It was a problem she had for years - a lack of girlfriends - because she was always hanging out with men it was natural for her to have more male friends than female. She also hadn’t developed a small talk with women skill, never learned how to take or return a compliment from another woman… She even had trouble with hairdressers. The other guitarist stood halfway, bent at the waist to kiss his way up her leg to the bruises that dotted her inner thighs, finally to her lips.</p><p>“Just the nature of this industry I think. A few years back, when we weren't getting the best reviews for Hail to the King, I remember seeing every up and coming kid as a threat.” He settled on his side beside her, his head on his hand and his tattooed palm on her sternum.</p><p>“So she's the vet and I'm the up and coming kid?” She snapped, regretting it as he flicked one of her nipples.</p><p>“Did I say that? I meant she was getting bad reviews.” To make up for his nearly-vicious flick, his lips settled around her nipple, his tongue swirling as if an apology. “Their latest isn’t doing very well at all. And it’s not like you’re not intimidating.”</p><p>“I guess I can see that logic,”</p><p>“You gotta keep up with the scene, babe. It'll help with some of this anxiety you keep penned up,”</p><p>“So does sex. So will sending Jay to prison.” With a sigh, Haner rolled off the bed, searching the ground for his pants. It was Finn’s turn to roll on her side, staring at his back as the muscles rippled. “What?”</p><p>“Whatever mood I had there was just ruined by a murderous rage. So I'm going to have a cigarette on the balcony.”</p><p>The lavender-haired guitarist sighed and stood, pulling on his t-shirt to cover her bare chest.</p><p>“Do you ever get used to it?” She asked after a few quiet moments, staring over the twinkling lights of Las Vegas with a lit cigarette. “To being famous, I mean,” She clarified after he shot her a questioning look.</p><p>“I feel like you've asked that before, Finn. I don't really know the answer. This is my normal.”</p><p>Findlay sighed, reaching her fingers out to twine together with his. After a brief tug of war, she rested her back against his chest, letting him wrap his tattooed arms around her narrow shoulders.</p><p>“Sometimes I wonder what's going on in that little head of yours,” His voice was low, his chin rested on top of her head.</p><p>“What do you mean?” The diminutive guitarist asked, her eyes closed. “I mean, right now I'm thinking about how fun it would be for you to bend me over that railing and -”</p><p>“Findlay. I'm talking about the… about the Jay thing. You never talk about it.”</p><p>“What's there to talk about?” She murmured, wishing he hadn't gone there. “I spend a lot of time not thinking about it.”</p><p>“I worry about that.”</p><p>“Don't. There's nothing to worry about. It happened. I fucked up.”</p><p>“That's the thing, isn't it. You didn't fuck up, Findlay. You trusted a friend and he betrayed you.”</p><p>“Awesome, great pep talk.”</p><p>“I'm worried that you're internalizing this.”</p><p>“What am I supposed to do? Wallow in it? Shout from the rooftops that I'm a fucking rape victim? Immerse myself in the life of fucking trigger warnings and advocacy?” She grumbled as she pulled away, leaning against the railing, watching the ash from her cigarette float down through the sky. Somewhere nearby, someone was acting out the fantasy she had tried to express to Brian, she could hear the quiet moans.</p><p>“Finn. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.” He braced a hand on either side of hers on the railing, his face nuzzled into her neck. “I don't want to see you hurt, but bad things happen when people internalize their hurt.”</p><p>Her lover - and his entire band - had been conditioned to be careful about mental health after Jimmy’s death. The loss had nearly torn them apart as a band, and it seemed that they were all bound and determined to make sure it never happened again. They spent a lot of time advocating for mental health and addiction help, but it also meant Brian was very tapped into how she was feeling. For someone who had struggled with depression in her teens as a side effect of being different and growing up in foster care, it was important to the younger guitarist.</p><p>“Brian, I'm dealing with it. It might not be the way you think is best but I am.” She sighed finally, flicking her butt over the edge so she could watch it float to the earth. Brian kissed her neck gently, his hips against hers. “Man, you're quick to change tracks,”</p><p>“Can’t help it, babe, look at you,” He reached his tattooed palm slowly down between her legs, rubbing her gently. As much as Finn wanted to be irrationally angry about him switching subjects, she arched her back into his chest, her hair flipped over his shoulder.</p><p>“Fucking hell, Brian,” She heard his belt buckle hit the floor and he pulled aside her underwear, pressing against and into her with his fingers still against her clit. She braced her hands against the railing as she pushed against him, but after a few minutes her hips hit the hard metal, his hands braced on either side of her body as she stood on her tiptoes for him.</p><p>“Give it to me, Finn,” His murmur in her ear set off her moan, and she came to her blissful edge. She couldn’t stand it any more, she couldn’t hold out.</p><p>“God damn it Bri, I’m coming!” He growled something against her throat as he found his finish, his hips tight against hers.</p><p>She leaned her head back against his shoulder again, his arm wrapped around her waist so he could kiss her shoulder.</p><p>“Fuck, Brian, I love you,”</p><p>“I love you too, Findlay,” His murmur was dark against her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He pulled out of her and spun her around so he could kiss her. Finn couldn’t suppress a shriek as he spun her, but gave into his kiss, her eyes closed.</p><p>“Come on babe, let’s go lay down.”</p><p>“You don’t want to stay up, go grab a drink downstairs?”</p><p>“I’ve got everything I need right here.”</p><p>With a slow smile, Finn followed him inside.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the first time in a while, she woke up with the sunrise next to the dark haired guitarist. She certainly didn't want to be awake though - they had stayed up entirely too late the night before, into the wee hours of the morning. Finn flipped over to face Brian and his deflated mohawk and found him with his pen suspended over the notebook in his lap.</p><p>“Couldn't sleep?” She asked, surprised at how husky her voice was from overindulgences the night before.</p><p>“Lyrics in my head. Had to get them out.” Finn smiled, stretching luxuriously before she settled flat on her stomach, one hand in her hair to hold it out of her face.</p><p>“Whenever you're done, I'll be right here,” He smiled down at her and reached to touch her cheek gently, brushing her hair off her neck.</p><p>It could have been a few minutes or an hour later, Finn wasn't sure, but she woke up again to Brian's arms wrapping solidly around her and pulling her body so her back rested against his chest.</p><p>“Mm, good morning,” The lavender-haired guitarist stretched against his body as his hands wandered over her torso. He kissed the space between her ear and her hairline gently, nuzzling her hair out of the way.</p><p>They were about to get down to brass tacks and indulge in some morning sex in a hotel in Vegas - like you do - when both of their cell phones started to ring.</p><p>“What the fuck?” Finn murmured as her lover cursed similarly, parting so they could reach for phones on either side of the bed.</p><p>“Better be good, Toric, or you're risking castration,”</p><p>“See, I told you you've gotta get both of them at once,” Tor was saying to someone - probably whichever band member Brian was on with on his end, judging by his dark scowl.</p><p>“Honestly, I thought something was wrong Toric, so you better start filling in this hole you've dug…”</p><p>“Ah, sorry to interrupt, Findlay. We were going to the brunch event with literally everyone on tour and wanted to make sure you guys didn't miss out on the required social hour. And then that little interview thing. I guess you don't really care,”</p><p>Ah, fuck, the interview. Las Rageous had decided to treat its VIPs to what would certainly be a rowdy brunch with the bands, followed by something of a group interview with some poor soul from AP. Findlay rolled her eyes and barked something about being down in ten minutes before she hung up, joining Haner in the hunt for clothes. She had the advantage of her suitcase, whereas Brian just had to put on what he had grabbed the night before.</p><p>“Could use a shower,” He murmured as he pulled on his boots and sat with his elbows on his knees, watching the lithe guitarist dress hungrily.</p><p>“Deodorant in the bathroom, it’s dude grade.”</p><p>“Of course it is. Why would it be anything else?” He chuckled, wandering into the bathroom. Evidently, he also found the spare toothbrush the Vegas hotel kept in the bathroom for sleepovers.</p><p>“Is that a dress?” He asked through a mouthful of toothpaste.</p><p>“Romper. One I was even thinking of wearing,” She joked dryly, pulling on underwear as she considered the skimpy thing. It was black with soft white flowers, and a plunging neck and back that showed off a lot of her tattoos. She chewed her lip for a moment before she pulled it in over her bare chest, bending to yank up a pair of socks and her boots.</p><p>“Yes, I still need to brush my fucking teeth, Brian, let me tie my shoe!” She laughed as Brian tried to put her loaded toothbrush in her mouth, avoiding the implement for a good while until she finally accepted, her shoelaces tied. A touch up of her makeup and a lot of pacing from Haner later, and the guitarists walked into the lobby hand-in-hand.</p><p>“It takes a while but it's worth it, right?” She asked as they joined the group, hanging out by Heafy and Trivium so she wouldn't get into one of her typical pre-coffee fights with her twin.</p><p>“Is she talking about -”</p><p>“Makeup, get your mind out of the gutter, Heafy.” The tiny guitarist shook her finger up at the much taller man - literally a foot taller, at least - as Haner guffawed.</p><p>“Ok, can we talk about this, Purps? Why you got beef with ‘Matt?’ Why are you always calling me Heafy?” Findlay raised her eyebrow at the name ‘Purps,’ wondering if he was trying to make sure she knew how annoying it was. The purple-haired guitarist reached for her cigarettes and thought about making a break for it as the group was ushered out onto the street by some very stressed out-looking people with clip boards, following a set of similarly stressed-out people with their phones open for directions to wherever it was they were taking the group.</p><p>Brian wrapped his arm around her shoulders as was his custom as they walked, and she dug her cigarettes out of her romper pocket.</p><p>“I mean, there’s already a Matt, Heafy. I can’t do two Matts.” She managed through the smoke between her lips, lighting it on her own for once as Brian was occupied with his.</p><p>“I’ve been a Matt longer than Sanders!” The singer protested, stealing a drag of her cigarette as Brian barked a laugh.</p><p>“Doubtful.” The guitarist grinned, twisting his fingers through his bouffant before he settled his arm over her shoulders.</p><p>“What year?” Heafy protested.</p><p>“81, same as me.”</p><p>“Aw, shit. ‘86.”</p><p>“Fuck you guys are old…” Findlay murmured her jab just loud enough for the pair to hear, squeezing Brian’s waist.</p><p>“Says the twenty-seven year old,” The older guitarist quipped,</p><p>“Oh, we’ve got a little baby!”</p><p>“Shut the hell up Heafy, you’re, like, thirty-one!”</p><p>“And spry as a sixteen-year-old!” The singer grinned, flexing an arm in his cutoff t-shirt. Haner shook his head ruefully.</p><p>“More like gangly as one,” He quipped, smiling down at Finn as Heafy grew more animated beside the pair.</p><p>“Fine, if I can’t be my given name, can you at least call me my middle name? Kiichi? You say Heafy and I don’t hear it.”</p><p>“I can try,” Findlay considered as the group started to file into one of the big buffet offerings on the strip. “Can we drink at this thing?”</p><p>“It’s, like, 10:00?” Heafy - Kiichi, Finn mentally corrected herself - looked almost shocked.</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Man, you go harder than me…”</p><p>“You can keep up, Kiichi, I believe in you.” Brian’s tone was mocking as he clapped the singer on the shoulder. Finn grinned wickedly, ducking under his arm to walk into the Caesar's Palace Bacchanal Buffet, an aptly named venue for a metal breakfast. The bands were all staying at the Mandalay Bay hotel - supposedly because the rate was better than at the D, and because they were all immature and would have died laughing before they got to their sets.</p><p>“Are they splitting us up by band?” Finn murmured, unwilling to leave Brian’s side yet that morning. It was hardly even 10:00 and they were being asked to hang out with fans, something she normally didn’t mind around showtime. But mornings on tour were meant for sleeping off hangovers. Or cuddling with Brian when she had him close by.</p><p>“I think, and correct me if I’m wrong,” He looked at one of the people with the clipboards that had been trialing them as they walked at the back of the pack with Heafy - Kiichi - down the strip. “The VIPs are already seated and we fill in, right?”</p><p>“We actually ask that you don’t sit with your bandmates,” The girl visibly suppressed an eye roll - obviously, she and Brian had been late enough to miss that instruction. “But, if you want to sit together, you should probably get ahead of everyone. It’s four musicians to a table, any open seat you want.”</p><p>Finn found herself being pulled by the hand through the mass of dirty metalheads, past Tor and Max, bumping into Johnny, barely skirting one of the hairier members of Mastodon until they reached about mid-front of the pack. A few minutes later, she was seated next to Brian, with a VIP between her and Heafy - Kiichi, she would get it right eventually - who were flanked by a VIP each, with another right across from her. They were joined by Scott fucking Ian from Anthrax. She couldn’t even think of the man without the “fucking” in the middle.</p><p>Tor punched his sister’s shoulder as he sat in the chair right behind her, across from Matt, who made the “I’m watching you” finger motion at the lavender-haired guitarist. She stuck her tongue out at him and whipped her head back around as Brian started introducing himself to the VIPs, who seated themselves pretty quickly. Probably because it was Brian at the head of the table and Kiichi in the middle on one side, the rectangular eight-top was filled by four women.</p><p>“Should we just, like, go around the table? Syn. Or Brian. Guitarist in Avenged, nice to meet you guys.” Damn he was cute when he was nervous. It didn’t happen very often. Going clockwise meant it was her turn.</p><p>“Hi guys! Findlay, guitarist in the Heathens.”</p><p>“Dena, I’m from Texas.” Oh, Finn could tell. She was a buxom blonde with pink streaks in her tall hair. She had certainly had her lips done, and recently. She wore a floral sundress with a leather jacket draped over the back of her chair and a hell of a lot of makeup.</p><p>“Matt, or Kiichi,” He looked pointedly at Finn, “Singer and guitarist in Trivium.”</p><p>“Reese, from LA.” The girl had a short pixie cut in steel grey, enormous gauged earrings, snake bites and tattooed arms, and looked positively thrilled to be sitting next to Scott. She wore a black Slayer tank top with leopard print pants and a pair of bright red converse.</p><p>“Scott, guitarist for Anthrax. Good to meet you,”</p><p>“Ashley, from Phoenix.” Ashley looked a little more normal than her compatriots, with long, dirty blonde hair and modestly-gauged ears. She had a tattoo of a rose on her forearm, and wore what Tor called the “Findlay special,” torn-up band shirt (Turbonegro, which Finn appreciated) with a bralette peeking out the sides, and ripped up black jeans with boots.</p><p>“Mackenzie, from here.” She was so. Fucking. Tall. And of course, she sat right across from Findlay. The lavender-haired guitarist had to crane her neck to look up at her. Great body, which she dressed in a pair of black shorts and a white crop top, but a questionable face.</p><p>“What do you do here?” Finn asked as the waiter came around to fill their glasses with mimosas. “Is there any chance I could get a screwdriver? Champagne makes me… weird.”</p><p>“Understatement of the century. We did this farewell brunch in Amsterdam when she was done playing for us, and -”</p><p>“- You tell one more word of that story, and I swear to god Brian -” Kiichi was holding his sides tightly, shaking with laughter, but the rest of the table leaned forward with interest.</p><p>“She and Zacky almost went streaking, and then they both passed out on this couch at the restaurant.”</p><p>“If I recall correctly - which I might not because I don’t recall much - there were other factors at play aside from champy, Brian,” She jabbed the man in the side with a hard finger and a grin.</p><p>“Other factors? No, never.”</p><p>Reese and Scott had followed suit with the screwdrivers, and were given different glasses to differentiate from the mimosa drinkers - tall wine glasses that Finn felt cool holding.</p><p>“Sorry, Mackenzie, I asked you what you did and then was super rudely interrupted,” The lithe guitarist rolled her eyes at Brian, who was deep in conversation with the girl Findlay’s right, Dena.</p><p>“I’m actually a showgirl,”</p><p>“So the musical theatre business?” The girl nodded, looking like she’d rather be talking to Brian beside her. “I mean, that’s really awesome, you must be super talented. Do you live in town or is the cost of living ridiculous?” That seemed to spark her interest.</p><p>“It’s so freaking ridiculous, we’re like a half hour’s drive out. Twenty-six years old and I still live with roommates!”</p><p>“God I feel your pain. I still live with my brother in Boston,” As if he had heard her, Tor’s tattooed knuckles landed on her shoulder, and she grinned up at her twin.</p><p>“It’s not that bad, is it? I’m Tor, nice to meet you.”</p><p>“I guess you’re the older brother?” Mackenzie took his hand and shook it as Tor nodded.</p><p>“Oh, by like two minutes, you fuckass!”</p><p>“And I’m always looking out for my kid sister. They’re letting us go up and eat, fyi,”</p><p>“Oh, fuck yes, I am so fucking hungry,” Kiichi was the first to leave the table, leaving an octet of raised eyebrows in his wake until Ashley and Dena followed him.</p><p>“I think I’ll hang until that dies down,” Finn waved her hand at the growing line.</p><p>“I’ll wait with you guys, this seems like a fun table. Hi guys, Toric, singer for the Heathens.” He turned Ashley’s chair around to sit in, next to Mackenzie. Finn rolled her eyes at her brother’s obvious moves on Mackenzie, and shook her head at the tall blond.</p><p>“Honestly, you don’t have to indulge him if you don’t want to. It’s better not to engage or he’ll just pester and pester…”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tor asked, spinning his empty mimosa glass in his hand as Scott chuckled.</p><p>“It mean’s you’re fucking persistent, kid. I think I see Charlie at the front of the line, I’m gonna go pretend to talk to him about something important. Do you want to come?” He asked Reese, leaving Mackenzie alone at the table with the trio. Finn took a deep swallow of her screwdriver, finding it incredibly strong. She was reduced to observing as Tor tried to talk to the blonde who kept trying to pull Brian into the conversation, lips quirked in a smile at the push and pull.</p><p>After a few minutes, she glanced over her shoulder at the line, finishing her drink before she addressed the table.</p><p>“Hey, you guys wanna go get food? I’m going to need it before I have another one of these,” She gestured to the empty wine glass. Not to be outdone, Brian finished his and offered her a hand. Finn closed her tattooed palm in his as they walked to the buffet, feeling very much like a teenager with the public display of affection. Was Brian marking his territory or had he sensed her desire to mark hers?</p><p>“I’m impressed they got this place booked for so many people,” He mused, standing on line behind a couple of the guys from Godsmack.</p><p>“It’s a pretty big fucking place, but I think we’re taking up most of it,” Sully from Godsmack turned to chat with the pair of guitarists as Tor and Mackenzie pulled up behind them. The singer was also from Boston, and the Heathens had met - and gone drinking - with he and his bandmates before</p><p>“Well, if you think about it. There’s sixteen bands with an average of four people per band, so there’s at least 64 people on tour. I’ll margin of error for 70, with an equal number of VIP’s? Plus the coordinators, they’ve gotta eat. So we’re, minimum, 150, 160 people? I’m sure this place is always packed but that’s a pretty fucking decent turnout. And then the press… Why is everyone staring at me?”</p><p>“Did she just Rain Man that shit?” Sully addressed Brian, an incredulous eyebrow raised.</p><p>“She does that sometimes,” Brian explained, putting a protective arm over her shoulders.</p><p>“She got the savant twin gene.” Tor added with a grin. “I got the beauty,”</p><p>“Gonna have to disagree with you there, Toric,” Sully said with a laugh, passing a stack of plates down to the end of the row.</p><p>Finn was as amazed by the selection of food as she was that Mackenzie was still talking to Toric, especially when she realized that the blonde from the Pretty Reckless was definitely glaring at both of them now. She brought it up to Brian in a murmur as she secured a pancake.</p><p>“Yeah, that might not be a good thing,” He leaned to catch a glimpse of the girl, who seemed very irate with the VIP next to her as he reached for a waffle. “Maybe she’ll revenge bang Max for Tor not banging her again and you existing?”</p><p>“Ew, waffles? Over pancakes? That’s it. It’s over, Haner. I can’t.” Findlay raised her free hand before she went for the bacon, grinning at her joke.</p><p>“Waffles are the tits, Finn, everyone knows that. You just don’t appreciate nooks and crannies,” Her eyebrows climbed high at his statement as Sully burst out laughing in front of her. Brian tilted his head back with a groan as he realized the inadvertent dirty joke he had made.</p><p>“I think I truly do appreciate them, Bri, really,” She said dryly, throwing a slice of bacon on her plate.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They got back to the table without Brian trying to eat his foot again, plates full, but walked into a sort of Q and A session from the VIPs to the band members. Findlay reached for her screwdriver, nibbling her bacon as she made headway on the beverage.</p><p>“What is your favorite, like, crazy on-tour story?” Ashley asked, brandishing a forkful of lobster.</p><p>“Oh, can I go first, guys? We’re the youngest band so we don’t have as many fantastic stories as they do. But you know how women throw panties and stuff on stage? In one of our earliest shows, someone threw his tightie whities onstage. Which was nasty in and of itself, but then Max took them and put them on his head… we later found out there was a great skidmark in them. He yakked. I’m personally still not sure if I should be flattered or impressed.” Finn shrugged, almost knocking into the woman trying to refill her screwdriver from a pitcher of the stuff.</p><p>“Alright, alright, let me get in here.” Brian finished his drink just in time for a refill. “Back in the younger days, when The Rev was still around, we definitely all had some substance abuse problems. So we had this reporter trailing us, and she was hitting on me but I was having none of it so I pissed on her. Like, she’s sitting on a couch trying to ask questions - which was rough because she was doing coke with Jimmy - and I just stood up and peed. Not proud of that. I think Jimmy and Matt both tried to fuck her later.”</p><p>“Did you?” Mackenzie was back, separated from Tor just in time to hear Brian talk about his sex life. She seemed interested, as women often were. Brian had this allure about him - one that had ensnared the smaller guitarist easily, so she knew its dangers.</p><p>“I mean, after she had a shower,” Findlay rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah, Finn? Like y’all never took drugs and did stupid shit,”</p><p>“We definitely have. I think my favorite was Corey fucked up his knee, he really should have gone to a doctor but he was afraid they’d put him in a cast, so he just kept taking painkillers every night, drinking. He couldn’t fucking sing for the rest of tour but he finished it.” Kiichi contributed, with a shrug. “One night we tried to join him, and I passed out right after the show, backstage.”</p><p>“I think my favorite with you, Matt, is the ‘free pass,’” Brian pointed at the singer, who sighed and squared his shoulders as if preparing himself for a story. “He and his wife have a thing - you had it before you were married, right? - they have this thing where he gets one free pass a tour. Just one, no matter how long the tour is or something like that. We were in Japan and Johnny and I might have gotten him a little fucked up, and he decides he wants to use his free pass. He goes out - we were drinking at the hotel bar, and the girls were all taken - and we all went to bed, don’t think anything of it until the morning. Well, we wake up to Kiichi here, shouting in between the busses.</p><p>“I thought something was wrong so I literally dumped this chick out of my bed and run outside in my shorts - this asshole is upset because he ‘wasted his free pass.’”</p><p>“Oh my god, I woke up in bed with this girl and she was hideous. Totally wasted my pass. Mainly because I don’t remember the sex. Or if we even did. She didn’t speak a word of English, my Japanese was still super shitty, and nobody could figure it out.” He paused, considering. “My wife and I have since amended the agreement, but it was certainly a bummer.”</p><p>“Kids, kids,” Scott finally looked up from his plate, his eyes glinting as he started to tell a story so debaucherous, Finn could hardly believe it. She drained her drink, waiting patiently for a refill, her attention on the long-goateed guitarist.</p><p>“So me and Lemmy were sitting at a bar in Berlin,”</p><p>“Well, fuck, how would any of us top that?” Brian asked, under his breath.</p><p>“You can’t.” Kiichi shot back, eyebrows raised as Scott waited patiently for them to contain their awe.</p><p>“There was no outdrinking Lemmy, it couldn’t be done, you couldn’t even go toe to toe with him. But this was years ago, and I was totally down to try. I think it was my tenth shot - the last one I remember, and Lem wanted to go out, so we went out. I woke up in this hotel room I’ve never seen before, buck ass naked, with all these bodies around me. Lemmy somehow organized a fucking orgy. He’s laying on this big rotating bed, with just naked ladies all over him. It was incredible. Also, I’ve never seen such a well-endowed gentleman, for the record.”</p><p>“I see the gears in that head turning, Finn, do you have a orgy story or are you thinking about the missed opportunity?” Brian joked, getting a stare from the petite guitarist.</p><p>“I don’t fuck and tell.” She winked at the black-haired man, who raised an eyebrow, looking as if he was undressing her in his mind.</p><p>“Did you ever meet Lemmy?” Scott asked, an eyebrow raised. “Because no offense, Finn, but you strike me as the type -”</p><p>“Nope, but probably.” She leaned her head back to laugh. “Fuck, I gotta be careful with this shit or I’m gonna get a reputation. Sorry ladies, I’m usually not so foul,”</p><p>“She’s fucking lying, she’s always this foul.” Brian mused with a wide grin as he looked at the smaller guitarist, making no secret of the fact that he eyed her cleavage before his gaze traveled to her face.</p><p>“In the short time I have known you, I can attest this is true,” Kiichi had this interesting way of phrasing things, Finn had started to notice. Listening to Trivium in the past she had thought he wrote with a thesaurus, but that was really the way he spoke.</p><p>“One of the first stories you told me was about you and Tor’s competition.”</p><p>“It wasn’t just me and Tor, Max and Jay were in on it,” She wrinkled her nose as she said Jay’s name, but moved on.</p><p>“Competition?” Scott asked, scratching his goatee. “What kind?”</p><p>“Uh, we just kinda had a bet going to see if we could sleep with a different person at every date on tour. Tor was a close second, I’ll admit,” Kiichi raised his eyebrows at her and then turned to Brian, shocked, gesturing at the lavender-haired guitarist.</p><p>“How many dates was the tour?” Scott’s goatee wiggled</p><p>“Think it was, like, 50 or so.” She finished her refill almost immediately and was left drinkless and food-less, her hands in her lap. The women at the table were all somewhere between admiration and absolute disgust - Ashley looking like she admired Finn and Mackenzie looking like she wished she was anywhere but at the table with the lavender-haired guitarist.</p><p>“Respectable, really. But a young filly like you, that must be easy?”</p><p>“Did you just call me a horse, Scott?”</p><p>“It’s a figure of speech, Finn. But it has gotten me slapped before, come to think of it,” Finn stuck her tongue out at him before she looked down at her plate.</p><p>“More food is a great idea, but I want a smoke,” Brian was already scooting back his chair as she mentioned it.</p><p>“Can I come with you? I’ve been jonesing.” This Ashley girl kept surprising her, Finn mused as she nodded, lips quirked in a smile.</p><p>Brian took Finn’s hand in his and threw an arm over the brown-haired girl’s shoulders, grinning like the playboy he thought he was. Finn let go of his hand to pinch his ass viciously as they walked.</p><p>“So are you two, like, a thing?” The girl asked as Brian lit their cigarettes for them, finally starting on his own. Finn let her eyebrows climb, looking between her girl and her lover. He pursed his lips, his face unreadable behind his sunglasses.</p><p>“Tough question to answer. It sounds contrite, but it’s complicated.” She answered finally, taking a deep drag of her cigarette.</p><p>“I mean, the easiest answer is yes.” Finn shot Brian an incredulous look, wondering where that outburst had come from. “What, Finn, we are.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I’m not in the mood to talk to the press about this. You won’t tell folks, right, Ashley?”</p><p>“I mean, I’m saying no, but it’s not like they’re not totally onto you already,” The girl took a drag of her cigarette, leaving it between her lips as she pulled her hair back into a tie, out of her face. “There are totally pictures and speculation,”</p><p>“Told you, you need a subscription to AP or something,” Brian teased, prodding Finn’s bony shoulder. Meanwhile, Ashley was fiddling with her phone, scrolling to some website or another with flashy ads. “Or a publicist or something. It’s not like we make it difficult,”</p><p>“Not at all,” She held up a website on her phone - Brian snatched it from her hand to look at it, holding his sunglasses out of his face.</p><p>“Holy shit, Finn. Did you know where your brother’s room was, last night?”</p><p>“I mean, up a couple floors? Why, what is it?” Finn made a grab for the phone, pulling it to her face so she could see in the bright Las Vegas sun. “Oh. Fuck me sideways,”</p><p>“Kinda seems like y’all already did that,” Ashley held her hand out for her phone, which Finn placed back in her hand after another glance. There, in the palm of her hand, was a picture of her and Brian out on the balcony the night before, very obviously in the throes of passion. His hand was in her hair, pulling her head back and his lips at her throat. She clutched the railing and rose on her tiptoes. The real kicker was that two stories above and one to the left - the source of the inspiring moaning she had heard - her brother pinned the blonde singer against the wall of the balcony.</p><p>“You can't say you two don't have similar thought processes,” Brian said, laughing at Finn’s scowl. After a second, he sighed and pulled out a second cigarette as Finn shot a text to her brother. “Hey Ash, do you mind if we have a sec? We'll be back in a few.”</p><p>The girl shrugged and walked in - poor thing, Finn mused as she searched for the photo on her own phone.</p><p>“Well I guess we just came out.”</p><p>“Man who knew it would be so literal?” She said with a laugh, as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders to light her second cigarette. “I love you, fuck cameras,”</p><p>“Hey, I don't mind. It's pretty fucking hot, if you crop Tor out,” He kissed her cheek, looking down at the phone in her hand, zooming with two fingers to crop Tor out as he suggested. That left her and Brian, recognizable because of their hair and tattoos. “You can't see anything at all,”</p><p>“Except the look on my face! Fucking hell Brian. I may have an appetite but I'm not an exhibitionist,” She murmured, leaning against his chest as Tor rounded the corner. Finn pressed the phone into his hand.</p><p>“What is it? What happen - oh fuck me,”</p><p>“Seems like that's been taken care of,” Finn made the same quip Ashley had and shot a tight-lipped grin up at Brian. “I’m not sure what the takeaway from this is. But I think you need to know about it. Where there's one there's tons,”</p><p>“Yeah well. We're the metal twins, remember? Maybe this will keep AP from calling us a power couple again,”</p><p>“I still can't believe that happened,” Brian interjected, as he tossed his cigarette butt. “I'm gonna go inside.”</p><p>“I'm coming, I'm coming.” Finn flicked her brother's nose and followed the guitarist.</p><p>“I'll follow at a reasonable interval so they don't think we're having a threesome,” Tor called with a laugh, staring at the picture on his own phone.</p><p>Brian kissed Finn’s temple as they walked through the lobby of Caesar’s palace, leaning to murmur into her ear.</p><p>“I'm keeping that fucking picture,”</p><p>“I'm mooning the fuckers when we get back,” she whispered in response, kissing just beneath his earlobe.</p><p>The room was a sea of phone screens and drinks. The girl Tor was fucking in the picture - Taylor, Finn had learned her name - looked livid. As the door closed behind the pair of guitarists, heads swiveled. She could pick out Max, Matt, Johnny, Brooks and Zacky, brows raised almost identically.</p><p>“Oh, come on,” Finn growled, hands in the air in frustration. Ashley was nowhere to be found. She glanced back at Brian, who shrugged.</p><p>“It doesn’t always stay in Vegas.” He announced with a wave, in full Syn mode. Frustrated, Finn paced away from him, to the buffet to pick up another plate to steel her stomach against all the alcohol she was about to drink.</p><p>‘You ok, kid?” Matt was beside her with a plate, flipping it between his palms.</p><p>“Yeah. Certainly not the worst thing to happen to me,”</p><p>“Still fucking blows. You know that VIP y’all went out with came in, announced the picture, and left,”</p><p>“Should fucking sue.” She sighed, reaching for a piece of fried chicken. “Brian and I are fine. I feel bad for Tor and that fucking girl.”</p><p>“Taylor.”</p><p>“I know. And she’s done nothing to me, so I should be kinder.”</p><p>“Yes, but you’re sure you two are ok? I’m not convinced.”</p><p>“Brian seems to be taking it better than me,”</p><p>“Is he?” Finn paused as she put french fries on her plate, looking up at Matt in wonder.</p><p>“You think he’s…”</p><p>“I know he’s upset, Finn, I’m telling you he is.” Matt reached out to rub her shoulder before he reached for the french fries in front of her, piling another tong-full of french fries on her plate. “Go feed him some french fries and give him a kiss. Whatever you want, but he’s not happy about this, sweetie.”</p><p>“Thanks, Matt.” Finn walked away, feeling bewildered. How was Matt always the angel on her shoulder when it came to Brian? She walked back to where he sat, pretty obviously upset she realized now.</p><p>“Hey, Bri,” She set her plate down, and put her hand on his shoulder. “Babe? Do you want to come for a cigarette?”</p><p>“Just got back from one,” He reached for the screwdriver in front of him, but she went for it first and socked it back. Brian looked up at her, wide-eyed. “Jesus, ok.”</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pair paced outside, lighting their cigarettes. Brian tried to cover up the fact that he was upset - he seemed irritated that she had pulled him away from the group again, but not upset about the picture. Findlay found herself reaching for his hand to stop his pacing, but he brushed his fingertips across hers and continued.</p><p>“Brian. Talk to me, please.” She murmured finally, squinting at him in the bright Vegas sun.</p><p>“What's there to talk about? We're supposed to be in there entertaining.”</p><p>“Between Scott and Kiichi? Believe me, they're entertained.” Finally, he stopped, leaning next to her. “Can I have Brian not Syn, please?”</p><p>The guitarist sighed and leaned his head on her shoulder, his hands at her hips. She flicked her butt away and settled her fingers over his wrists, waiting patiently as she ran her thumbs over his tattooed skin.</p><p>“What happens when my family sees that? When my sister’s friends show her? They've heard the stories but there's never… proof.”</p><p>“I was gonna say. They don't read your interviews either? But I guess pictures are different.”</p><p>“Means it's true.” Finn buried her hands in his hair, holding his head to her shoulder as he sighed deeply. She didn’t have the same skin in the game - with no real family to please, she didn’t have to worry about a parent or an estranged great-aunt seeing the picture and taking their issues to the press, or taking them out on her at the next holiday.</p><p>“Yeah well. I don't know why I worry about it,” His voice was muffled by her shoulder, and he plucked at the hem of her romper. “There's no pleasing them, really.”</p><p>“Are you happy? I mean, aside from the damn picture, Brian. I'm not thrilled but we can't change it.” She assumed that by “them” he meant either his family or the press, and found she was right.</p><p>“I know, I know. At least it made life a little easier… we don't have to tell everyone we're dating,”</p><p>“Kind of. At least the world will never question our sex lives?” Finn mused, running her fingers through his hair to fluff up the bouffant.</p><p>“God, how fucking shitty,” He murmured, touching the skin left exposed by her low-slung neckline before he traced a finger up her collarbone. “All I wanted was to have a good time,”</p><p>“Yeah it's not like we were even that drunk,” Finn murmured, kissing the shaggy side of his head.</p><p>“I want to be though, can we make that happen?”</p><p>“What do you think I am, some sort of miracle worker, Haner? Do you have any idea how much hooch it takes to get you teed off?”</p><p>Brian pulled her to his chest, his lips pressed against hers, his fingers wrapped around her narrow rib cage.</p><p>“Can I keep you or what?”</p><p>“You're stuck with me, I think.” She giggled as he sunk down onto her, his body heavy.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you swear to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you god?”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“Please state your name for the record,”</p><p>“Findlay Brogan O’Shaughnessey.”</p><p>The lavender-haired guitarist sat on the stand in a courthouse, across from Jay and his lawyers as her lawyer swore her in. As hard as it was to sit across from her assailant and former friend, it was even harder to think of the fact that he might get off simply because she wasn’t a “sympathetic victim.”</p><p>“And what do you do for a living, Miss O’Shaughnessey?”</p><p>“I’m a musician. A guitarist in the band the Heathens.” She had to work hard to recite what she and her lawyers had gone over, time and time again until she had it memorized. The guitarist sat in a long-sleeved black dress, hiding part of what made her an ‘unsympathetic victim,’ her tattooed hands clasped in her lap.</p><p>“And can you identify the defendant, Miss O’Shaughnessey?”</p><p>“There, James Carter Friedman. I know him as Jay. He was the drummer of the Heathens, and I trusted him with my life.”</p><p>“You say trusted, what do you mean with the past tense.”</p><p>“I no longer trust him, Mister Murad,”</p><p>They ran through the story, with two suspended objections from Jay’s lawyers. Findlay’s story was objected because she did not remember being raped or assaulted, or even both at once. By the time she and her lawyer were done with her testimony, she had dug her fingernails far enough into her hands to draw crescent-shaped rows of blood in her palms.</p><p>Before she was allowed out to hug her brother and have a cigarette, she had to be cross examined.</p><p>“Miss O’Shaughnessey, from what I understand, you invited Mister Friedman to your home on the night of the supposed assault, is that correct?”</p><p>“No. Jay asked if he could come over to talk about -”</p><p>“Miss O’Shaughnessey, did you or did you not invite Mister Friedman into your home?”</p><p>“Fine. Yes. He asked to come over and I agreed.”</p><p>“And what were you wearing when Mister Friedman arrived at your home?”</p><p>“Why does what I was dressed in matter, sir?” Those little crescents became half moons in her palm as she dug her fingers into the meat of her hands.</p><p>“What were you wearing, Miss O’Shaughnessey?”</p><p>“While I do not believe it was relevant, I wore a t-shirt, black jeans and white socks. I know this because my brother found it -”</p><p>“Miss O’Shaughnessey,”</p><p>“- on the floor with the police while I was in the hospital the next day.”</p><p>“Thank you, Miss O’Shaughnessey.”</p><p>“You’re welcome. Jeans and a t-shirt. White socks.”</p><p>“Miss O’Shaughnessey, I should note that you have been sexually promiscuous in the past.” The man didn’t pause, as if it wasn’t a question. “You have made it clear to my client that you would be open to his sexual advances.”</p><p>“No. I have not made it clear to James that I would be interested in his sexual advances. In fact, I have made it very cl -”</p><p>“Miss O’Shaughnessey, you have answered the question, thank you,”</p><p>Findlay found herself staring at her lawyer pointedly, waiting for him to call out the opposition for his disrespect and because he was cutting off her answers. He shook his head sadly, letting her know he couldn’t interrupt. Instead, she dug her fingers further into her hands, waiting for the next awful question.</p><p>“It's called discrediting the witness. I didn't think he would be quite so vicious. He's a good lawyer,” Mr. Murad said as he and Findlay walked out of the courtroom. Tor had a protective arm over his twin’s shoulders, rubbing her arm gently.</p><p>“I don't think I was adequately prepared for that,”</p><p>“No, you weren't, and I apologize. You handled it very well though, considering.” Findlay sighed, leaning on her twin as he provided her a cigarette. Tor usually didn't smoke cigarettes, but held one of his own in his hand as he provided his sister a lighter.</p><p>“I just… don't get what Brian and I have to do with that… monster.” She murmured, fiddling with the strap of her purse distractedly as she stared off into space. “What's next?”</p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So Findlay, Tor, let’s get down to it. Sorry Max, this kinda excludes you a bit.” The bassist waved his hand, lighting a cigarette.</p><p>The trio sat with an interviewer from Rolling Stone on a restaurant patio in downtown Boston. Because they had been back in town for the trial - which they had won, and Jay had gotten ten years in prison (but would probably be out in five) - their label-granted publicist had decided it was a great time to get some interviews in. And a photo shoot that she wasn’t entirely proud of. The black-haired girl had already asked about Jay, about touring, so Finn had to forgive her the question she knew was coming.</p><p>“You already know what I'm about to ask about, I’m sure. The picture.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m happy to stay out of this one,” The bassist murmured as he took a slug of his beer. Finn sighed, leaning her head back as she reached for Max’s cigarette for a pull. He let it slip from between his fingers willingly.</p><p>“There’s a lot of pictures,” Tor quipped dryly, obviously not thrilled. The black-haired girl raised her eyebrows, Finn thought. It was hard to tell under her strong bangs. The singer rotated his finger in the air, as if asking the little interviewer to speed it up. “Yeah, I know the one. Hit me,”</p><p>“We’ll come back to you. Findlay, does this mean that you and Synyster Gates -”</p><p>“Have a proclivity for balconies? No, actually, I can’t say that’s a mistake I’ll make again.” Finn made eye contact with the server and asked for another beer with as sweet a smile as she could muster, under the circumstances.</p><p>“Wait, does that mean you and Syn are or aren’t a thing?”</p><p>“God I hate this question. Sorry, Sylvia, I do. It’s such a weird, like, ‘you’re a celebrity, now tell us about your love life,’ and I use the term celebrity loosely, by the way.” Finn grumbled, aware she was ranting. “And he’s better at this question than I am. Much more diplomatic and patient. But yes, we’re a ‘thing’ - I wish I had a more adult way to phrase that but I don’t. Whenever he reads this he’s going to laugh at me.”</p><p>The interviewer was laughing at her now, as were her bandmates. She shot the boys a dirty look and crossed her arms over her chest with a frown.</p><p>“So with that, how exactly do to rockstars date? With all the touring, the temptation, just being separated for so long?”</p><p>“Man, I’m usually such a frank person but it’s really hard to answer these questions without being like… Welcome to my bedroom, you know?” Finn schooled her fingers to stillness in her lap, one hand clenched in the other. “I guess it’s… when we’re together, we’re together, and when we’re not we’re usually in pretty constant contact. That’s kind of all I have to say about it.”</p><p>“Awesome. So Tor, you and Taylor from the Pretty Reckless are in that picture too, are you guys a -”</p><p>“Nope. I like the Pretty Reckless, though, good band. Sweet girl. Not a thing.” Finn had to try hard to suppress her snort at the idea that Taylor was a “sweet girl,” and managed not to roll her eyes at her brother.</p><p>“Did you guys know your balconies were so close?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“If I had I probably wouldn’t have done it,” Finn murmured with a sigh. “If I had known there’d be a camera guy I definitely wouldn’t have, either.”</p><p>“Yup.” Tor had gone monosyllabic, symbolizing how over the conversation he was. The twins were the opposite in that regard - when Finn got nervous, she talked. When Tor was nervous, he clammed up. The interviewer seemed to notice this and changed tracks.</p><p>“Max? Any ladies in your life? I feel like I need to loop you in.” The bassist gazed at the interviewer over his sunglasses with a sigh.</p><p>“Not me. No attachments.”</p><p>“Never attachments. Don’t let him convince you he’s not totally fine with that.” Max grinned impishly at the petite guitarist, who reached over to punch his shoulder playfully.</p><p>“So you guys are doing some European festivals this summer?”</p><p>“We were invited to play Glastonbury, I’m wicked excited for that,” Tor was back in it, smiling broadly. “I’ve always wanted to go, I hear it’s a shit show and I’m down. It’s much more mainstream than the other shows we’re playing, though.”</p><p>“I think I’m most excited for Hellfest. The lineup is insane. Opeth, Slayer, Rancid? Can’t beat it.” Max passed Finn her fresh beer, as he mused about the show. “It’s going to be so great.”</p><p>“Rock am Ring. I fucking love Germany, and the show is at the Nurburgring. Just think of the records that have been set there,” She mused, not adding that they’d be with Avenged there. “I’m excited for all of them, really.”</p><p>“I think we go over for Rock am Ring to kick it off in Europe, then Hellfest, Glasto, Ruisrock - which is going to be fucking awesome, I love Scandinavia. We hop back for Rock USA and a break, like right after Ruisrock, and then back for Wacken, Brutal Assault and Midgardsblot. We are literally everywhere this summer. It’s gonna rock.” How Tor had managed to memorize the entire schedule to recite at the drop of a hat, Finn would never know. She was basically just along for the ride.</p><p>“I’m going to sleep through September. Make sure I wake up,” Max joked, stretching to clasp his fingers behind his head.</p><p>“Then I think we’re going to go back into the studio. I don’t like to release too many albums too quickly, but I think after the year we’ve had - fuck it, the last six months - we’ve got a lot of material. We’ve got a great session drummer right now, Rhys, who’ll be touring with us this summer. We’ll see if he wants to stay with us by the end,” Finn explained.</p><p>“We’re crazy. We’re starting to kinda come up from that mid level to the ‘we all have jobs we don’t need’ level, which is crazy. And it’s all about our fans, they fucking rock and I’d do anything for them.” Tor leaned against the table, fidgeting with his napkin.</p><p>“Honestly, we have the best fans, too. Like, we joke about the people throwing shit at us on stage and stuff, but last week at Carolina Rebellion this sweetie named Reggie brought me cupcakes, and they were absolutely baller. Come at me with the recipe, Reg.”</p><p>“It’s really great, we haven’t really encountered much hate out there. Maybe it’s because people are afraid of Finn.”</p><p>“Thanks, Tor…”</p>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finn was shaken awake by her brother’s jostling shoulder, realizing that they were finally on the ground in Ohio. It almost would have been quicker to drive or train out, she mused as they grabbed their bags off the carousel at baggage claim. She flipped her phone in her hand, wondering when the guys got in from California.</p><p>She planned on bonding with Rhys in the meantime, hoping that the drummer proved to be permanent. The tall man had long, curly hair like a surfer - not curated curls like Jay had but the effortless style born of salt and sun, sun kissed skin and piercing blue eyes. He was muscle bound and tall enough - probably a couple inches shorter than Brian, who was never known as the tallest man in the room. They had basically plucked him out of a classroom and bundled him into a plane for Carolina Rebellion and he hadn't looked back.</p><p>“I'm gonna dump my stuff and get acquainted with the hotel bar,” She told the boys in the elevator, inviting them with her.</p><p>“Ok, so watch out for her,” About fifteen minutes later, Rhys was sitting next to the lavender-haired guitarist on a stool, his gaze following her discreet finger toward the blonde at the end of the bar, surrounded by her bandmates. “She's working her way through the band. Trying to. I think Max is making her work for it.”</p><p>“It's not worth it, really,” Tor said with a wince. The second time they slept together the woman proved that she was into some pretty kinky shit and Tor had tapped out. “She comes with her own ball gag. Unless you're into that,”</p><p>“Nah, not particularly. I think she was on a TV show though,” Rhys sipped a Guinness - Brian was gonna love him, Finn mused - before he brushed his long curls into a half ponytail.</p><p>“Yep. Definitely.”</p><p>“Weird. Anything else?”</p><p>“Avenged is going to be around, try not to get sick at Finn and Brian's PDA,” Max joined them, joking as he ruffled the guitarist in question’s hair.</p><p>“Brian is… ?”</p><p>“The lead guitarist, Synyster Gates. You'll know him when you see him I'm sure.” Tor gently punched his sister's shoulder.</p><p>“You two date?” Rhys looked at Finn, his gaze unflinching.</p><p>“You could say that.”</p><p>“Is it fair to call it dating if you fuck other people, Finn?” She shot her brother the dirtiest look she could muster at his mean-spirited joke as Rhys regarded her with an incredulous look.</p><p>“I’m curious,”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I’m not normal, so my relationship’s not gonna be either. Yes, we fuck other people when we’re not together, and that’s fine.”</p><p>“Whatever works, sweetheart.” Rhys laughed, asking for a shot from the bartender. Tor made it a round, holding up four fingers with that winning smile of his.</p><p>“Hey Finby,” She looked up at her brother, a shot in her hand. He was pointing over her shoulder, and she socked back her shot before she turned to look to where he was pointing.</p><p>The man stood in the lobby with that trademark grin on his face, sunglasses still on under that ridiculous bouffant mohawk and his jacket over his shoulder, hooked on two fingers. His deep v-neck showed off his chest tattoo, his white Docs arrogantly unlaced. Brian’s shit-eating grin spread as he lifted his mirrored aviators to settle on top of his disheveled hair.</p><p>“Well fuck me,” Finn’s voice was barely a whisper as she stood off the barstool, pushing past her tour mates in the crowd that had formed at the bar on her way to the lobby. She hardly heard Rhys’ affirmation of her relationship with the lead guitarist as she passed him to throw herself into the tattooed man’s arms.</p><p>Brian picked her up by her armpits and spun her around, letting his jacket fall on the cold stone floor as the lavender-haired guitarist let out a surprised shriek and dissolved into giggles in his arms. He lowered her to his chest slowly, letting her sink her lips onto his with one booted foot kicked out and both hands on his shoulders. If Finn was more of a romance movie watcher, she would have giggled because of the reunion’s similarity to the Notebook - minus the rain.</p><p>“I fucking missed you, sweet thing,” Brian mumbled against her lips, slowly lowering her to the floor after their spectacular display. She held onto him tightly, one hand buried in his thick mohawk.</p><p>“I love you,” Her voice was a hoarse whisper as she buried her face in his neck.</p><p>“I love you too, Finby. Wanna come upstairs for a minute? Maybe move your shit into my room?”</p><p>“Of course,” Finn twined her fingers in his as they rode the elevator up, kissing him at odd intervals. He indulged her lips, wrapping a hand behind her head as they retrieved her bag from the room she was supposed to share with her brother and backtracked down a floor to where Haner was staying, in a room adjacent to Zacky’s.</p><p>“Let’s be careful about that balcony,” She murmured with a laugh as she set her bag down on top of the dresser before he scooped her up in his arms again, holding her like a child in his arms as he kissed her neck and whatever of her chest was left exposed in her torn-up band shirts and bralette combos.</p><p>“Fuck, Brian,” He shifted her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist, rising above him to kiss him viciously.</p><p>“I love you, Finby,” His lips fell to her throat as he yanked her shirt up.</p><p>Their session didn’t last long, especially after a brief scuffle versus her tight, torn-up jeans. Brian pressed her back against the wall, holding her legs around his waist as he dropped his pants to push inside her.</p><p>“Fuck, Bri,” She said again, and pressed her mouth against the underside of his chin as he pushed her down into the bed, running his hands up her sides.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“One more time, babe, please,” She knew she was basically begging, but with a smile Brian looped one of her legs around his elbow, pulling it up over his shoulder as he pressed himself back into her - displaying his superpower of being ready for her again and again.</p><p>“Finby, we gotta get back downstairs,” He murmured, pulling back away from her body. She reached for his neck to help her to her feet, practically staggering to the bathroom. “Do you need a shirt?”</p><p>“You want me to need a shirt?” Finn asked as she washed her hands, walking out of the bathroom to a shirt thrown at her face. “Got it.”</p><p>“Marking my territory,” Brian murmured as he pulled his loose v-neck over her chest.</p><p>“No bra?”</p><p>“Nope, deal with it,” His grin was broad as he laid his lips against her chin, nipping at her throat.</p><p>“As long as you can,” She tied the shirt up above the hem of her jeans, leaving a strip of skin exposed. On him, the shirt merely showed his tattoos. On her, it was dangerously low, showing her chest down to her sternum.</p><p>“Can't promise I can keep my hands off you,” He murmured, pulling the shirt to the side so he could nibble on her nipple gently.</p><p>Brian sat with her palm between his, rubbing the back of her hand with a gentle thumb as Matt inspected the tattoo on the other. There had been no jests about how long Brian and Finn were gone for, just a quiet question from the singer about the trial. Finn hadn't realized that Brian hadn't shared the information with his band, but was thankful he had left it for her to talk about.</p><p>“Fuck, Findlay, was it that bad?”</p><p>“It was. Like, he almost got off bad,” Tor answered for her, pushing a drink by her elbow. She leaned to take a deep swallow through her straw, her eyes closed.</p><p>“They asked about everything. They tried to make a case that I'm known for being ‘sexually promiscuous’ that I obviously lead him to believe this was ok.”</p><p>“What did you say?” Matt asked, his face dark as he ran his thumb over the tiny crescent moons embedded in her skin.</p><p>“I didn't have to say anything. They showed the pictures of my fucking face. Apparently I'm a much more sympathetic victim with two black eyes and a split lip.” Findlay sighed, leaning her head back to crack her neck. Matt released her hand, filling it with her drink immediately.</p><p>“I should have been there,” Brian murmured, still holding her hand firmly between his fingers, lodged between his knees.</p><p>“No. Definitely fucking not. It was hard enough having to answer those questions with Toric looking at me.”</p><p>“I had to leave the room for the pictures.” Tor admitted, his scowl dark. “I almost killed him when he was laughing with his lawyer at one point.”</p><p>“It was… difficult.” Finn murmured, swirling her drink in her hand. “But. It’s over. He’s in for at least five years.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Finn. You shouldn’t have had to deal with it in the first place.”</p><p>“Thanks Matt, I appreciate it. It’s over, though. All done, couldn’t have gone better.”</p><p>“Did you see the Rolling Stone shoot yet?” Max asked, causing Finn to cover her face with her hands and groan. The shoot had been decently provocative - the cover was the band, but Finn was the main focus of the pictures, as usual. There was a Maxim-esque series of photos from the shoot that she had sent to her guitarist as immediately as she got proofs, two of which made it into the spread. It was hot until she realized that the world was going to see her in some skimpy lingerie, which was slightly embarrassing.</p><p>“Oh god, please no,”</p><p>“You know, I did,” She couldn’t see his face, but she knew the black-haired guitarist was grinning by his tone of voice. “Helped me get to bed a couple nights,”</p><p>“Man, he’s got the option to sleep with whoever he wants and he picks Findlay’s pictures over flesh and blood?” Tor joked dryly, punching his sister’s shoulder. “One day you’ll share your secret with me, sis.”</p><p>“Hey, I can’t get out there every night, Toric. It’s exhausting.” Findlay exaggeratedly rolled her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest as she regarded the other guitarist as he joked.</p><p>“It’s not actually fair - so far I haven’t had time to take advantage of the situation myself.” She murmured, trying to steer away from the topic of pictures and failing miserably.</p><p>“I thought you just weren’t telling me about them,” Brian’s hand rested on her knee, the other holding a Guinness.</p><p>“You know, I mentioned this to Val one night and I’m pretty sure she was about to pull out the divorce papers,” Matt ran his hand through his hair, grinning. “I think she keeps them in a drawer somewhere.”</p><p>“She’s a DiBenedetto, of course she does.” Brian joked dryly, getting a shocked look from the bearded singer and the lavender-haired guitarist. Finn was more confused than anything, she had only heard him talk about his former marriage twice since the day he told her about it - mainly, that he had been married, and was Matt’s ex-brother-in-law. She wasn’t even sure what the woman’s name was, just that she was also a twin.</p><p>“Did you just make a…”</p><p>“Divorce joke?” Matt finished Finn’s trailing sentence, eyebrows raised incredulously. Brian paused, the can of Guinness raised to his lips as he thought for a moment.</p><p>“You know, I think I did. Feels good.”</p><p>Matt looked from Brian to Finn for a moment before he threw his hands in the air, ordering another beer from the overworked bartender. Finn gazed up at the other guitarist, holding his tattooed palm against her knee. It was a weird, quiet moment - weird because the pair weren’t known for silence. As Matt took his beer from between them, Haner leaned in to press his lips to the top of her ear and whispered a quiet ‘I love you.’ Finn grinned at the floor like an idiot, holding his hand tightly in both of hers.</p><p>“You two are disgusting,”</p><p>Findlay almost fell out of her chair as Matt whispered in both of their ears, close enough that his beard brushed her cheek. He was lucky he wasn’t wearing his beer after such an offense.</p><p>“Dick!”</p><p>“A timely one, though. You have your Guitar World thing in five, Finn.” Max reminded her gently, swinging by the bar for another beer.</p><p>“Ah, fuck. I almost forgot about that, thanks Max.” She glanced up at Brian and shrugged. “Gotta go get someplace quiet.”</p><p>“Just go in the back? Don’t think you need to go super far,” Matt pointed to a relatively secluded booth in the back of the hotel bar, away from where various metalheads milled.</p><p>“Solo interviews,” Brian murmured, cringing. “I don’t envy you, babe.”</p><p>“You get used to it,” She shrugged, ordering another drink to take with her. She swiped her headphones and notebook off the bar - she liked to keep track of the questions she was asked for her sanity’s sake - and crossed the bar to sit at the table, her feet kicked up on the booth seat across from her, notebook open, phone ready.</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The phone spun in a circle on the table in front of her as she got a call from an unknown number.</p><p>“O’Shaughnessey,”</p><p>“Hi Findlay, Damian Fanelli with Guitar World, how are you?”</p><p>“Hi Damian! I’m doing great, just trying to keep my head in festival mode.”</p><p>“You guys have quite the extensive schedule this summer,”</p><p>“Yeah we do. We’re always trying to push ourselves and with the last album, it’s just a really great show. The fans love it so we love to play for them.”</p><p>“Good to hear. I won’t take you away long. You’re in Ohio right now, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, we’re at Rock on the Range this weekend. Got a lot of friends around, it’s gonna be a fun show. We play Saturday, so we’ve got some downtime to hang with the guys.”</p><p>“You must be used to being the only girl in the room.”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s pretty typical. I’m usually the only female guitarist around too. I read somewhere that Kirk Hammett was talking about how I’m the best female guitarist on the scene, which was really fucking awesome. My brother had to take the air out of the sails, though, and reminded me I’m the practically the only fucking female guitarist. It’s like, me and Lizzy Hale basically. And I don't even sing.” Finn chuckled ruefully, shaking her head even though the man on the other end of the phone couldn’t see her. “I’m so lucky I have him to keep me grounded.”</p><p>“What does your gear look like?”</p><p>“I play two ESP LTD ECs - black and a red because color is so important - with Ernie Ball’s new Paradigms, which I am totally capable of breaking, get at me EB. I route that through Donegan’s digitech, Dimebag’s Cry Baby and Wylde’s Overdrive. I usually keep it pretty clean. We run that back into a couple of Marshall stacks, nothing fancy. I’ve been thinking of upgrading the amps - I got to play through Bri - I mean, Syn’s - Hellwins when I was with Avenged a few months ago in Europe, and it absolutely spoiled me. We gotta find budget for that and a tech I think.”</p><p>“You don’t have a tech?”</p><p>“Nah, I’ve kind of always tended to myself. But at this level - playing professionally, I mean - we kind of need one.”</p><p>“I heard a story about that - how you ticked off Synyster Gates’ tech by tuning him up on stage.”</p><p>“Yeah, that happened. He fell out during a solo and I was right there so I fixed it. I remember just getting this look from Mike - like, bloody fucking murder - so I never did it again. I think it really threw Brian - I mean, Syn through a loop too.”</p><p>“I have a question here about that relationship, but I would never ask a guy that so I’m not asking you.”</p><p>“I appreciate that a lot, Damian.”</p><p>“Anytime. So you went to Berklee and until recently you taught there, is that right?”</p><p>“I did go to Berklee but I didn’t really teach. I did some masterclasses and worked as a TA for one of my favorite professors. It helped pay the bills and I enjoyed it. We only recently were able to start to play music for a living, starting with our Avenged tour - it’s still trippy to me.”</p><p>“Well, you guys are a very talented young band. There’s a lot of Pantera in you. What would you say your main influences are, musically?”</p><p>“As per our sound? Tor and I grew up with a lot of Slayer and Anthrax, we were listening to Avenged in high school. That ages me, doesn’t it?” Finn paused, considering. “I know everyone says the same things, but we really set out to make a sound of our own. I think we’ve accomplished that, but we’re always evolving.”</p><p>“You have a lot of jazz influence in your sound, too.”</p><p>“Yeah, that comes from my background at Berklee. I’m a big believe in the importance of theory, because with that you get to explore fun things. Like, I’m a huge fan of thirds and mixed meter music - polymeters, I have my favorite time signatures and the circle of fifths tattooed on my body.”</p><p>“Do you find those tattoos helpful when you’re writing?” Damian asked with a chuckle, and she joined him, noting the question with a smiley face next to it. “So with the departure of Jay, your drummer, who do you have filling in?”</p><p>“We’re actually about to play our first session with Rhys. We literally plucked him out of a classroom on campus, threw sheet music at him and let him go. He’s a performance grad at Berklee, he really knows his shit. He’s really great, high-energy and very talented. Before that, there were a couple of shows Avenged was at, and they let us borrow Brooks. Those were fun shows. It’s such a collaborative community, we all help each other when we need it.”</p><p>“Avenged definitely knows the pain of being down a drummer, that’s for sure.”</p><p>“Exactly. I think it will work out well for us, in the end. We’re excited to start writing a new album.”</p><p>“What does the writing process look like for the Heathens?”</p><p>“We’re a very guitar-based band. Once upon a time, I was writing the bulk of the music and Tor was adding lyrics. One day I got fed up and came home with, like, three ratty acoustics and the year one theory workbooks and set the boys up with them. I needed them to pull their own weight. So these days, we all work on melodies together. Tor still does the bulk of the lyrics, but Max helps with that. I write actual sheet music for our music, too, which saved our asses recently.”</p><p>“After three albums, you’ve really hit your stride writing-wise, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, definitely. Sometimes I try to shake it up and write a bit on the piano, but it really annoys the neighbors. Even though most of them are Berklee students. Go figure.”</p><p>“We’re about ready to start wrapping up here,” Finn waved her hand at Brian, pointing to her almost empty drink. He mimed looking at his watch, asking how long she had left, to which she held up five fingers.</p><p>“The best things are over too soon,” Damian laughed at her.</p><p>“So I have two more questions, and I’m sure the second one will be quick. But first, as a woman in metal, what do you consider your biggest challenge to be?”</p><p>“Being the only girl in the room is difficult, especially when you’re my size. I get overlooked. I’ve learned to stand up for myself and how to use my bandmates to amplify what I’m saying, but it’s annoying when I say something and nobody hears me, but Tor repeats it and he’s the man. You really have to be a presence.”</p><p>“And what is one thing you have to have with you while you’re touring?”</p><p>“Aside from my gear?” Finn had to pause, considering. “My notebook for writing. I still write on staff paper.”</p><p>“Thanks so much, Finn, I hope to chat with you again soon.”</p><p>“Thanks Damian, have a good one!”</p><p>Finn hung up with a sigh, stretching first one leg then the other up by her head before she unwound to stand, pacing back to the bar and several raised eyebrows.</p><p>“I didn't know you could do that, Finn. That's impressive,” Findlay smiled brightly at Kiichi, enveloping him in a hug as she wondered when the members of Trivium had arrived to join their group.</p><p>“Yoga man, it's the tits. You should see her at it,” Brian interjected, handing the shorter guitarist a fresh drink.</p><p>“I'm sure that's really great for you,” Kiichi joked, punching the black-haired man in the arm. “Can you do that pose where you put your leg behind your head?”</p><p>“When I'm warmed up I can do all sorts of stuff. Now? No. I won't.”</p><p>“Stage fright?” Finn flipped the singer off before she took a chug of her drink.</p><p>“Interview go well?” Tor asked, taking the notebook from under her arm. “What did they ask?”</p><p>“The usual guitar stuff. He actually said someone had put a question about Brian and I on there and he didn't feel like asking it because he would never have asked a guy. I appreciated that.”</p><p>“Yeah, I'll say. The shit people will ask you because you're a woman is ridiculous,” Brian shook his head. “I've never gotten an interview question directly about you before.”</p><p>“I've gotten asked about who I'm sleeping with,” Tor interjected with a shrug, flipping through Finn's question notes.</p><p>“Is that because you're usually sitting next to me?” The lithe guitarist asked, closing the notebook on his fingers. Her brother looked pensive for a moment, tapping his lips with a finger, apparently considering the potential that a) interviewers only asked him that question because they had just asked her or b) that people still didn't believe they were brother and sister. She had to thank Jack and Meg White for fucking that one up.</p><p>“Potentially. I can't rule it out.”</p><p>Findlay rolled her eyes and ordered herself another drink - and a tall glass of water. Brian's hand rested on the small of her back as the rest of the guys went back to chatting. The couple had to treasure their moments together and their band mates knew it, and so were a little more understanding of the silent staring contest the guitarists were having alone at the end of the bar.</p><p>With a smirk and a roll of his tawny eyes, the guitarist leaned in and gave the grey-haired woman a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>The pair tuned back into the group, fingers tangled together.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The show in Texas had been so long and hot that Finn hadn't even really wanted to go down to the bar for dinner afterwards. Her band mates actually passed, opting for delivery pizza and beers in one of their hotel rooms, watching some shitty movie on pay per view. Finn craved a salad, which she didn't trust from a shitty Texan pizza place and so down to the bar she went, reluctantly, wearing shorts and one of Haner's v-necks she had ripped off from Rocklahoma.</p><p>As she sipped her third glass of water, waiting for her salad as she contemplated the joys of growing older, a heavy hand fell on her shoulder.</p><p>“Mind if I join?”</p><p>“Course. Whatcha drinking, Kiichi?”</p><p>“Fucking water. It's hot as tits out there,”</p><p>“I think it was hotter than tits because mine couldn't stand it,” She said with a laugh as the tall man settled into the seat beside her. “How are you wearing fucking pants still?”</p><p>“Yeah, uh, I am far too gangly for shorts, kid. May I have a menu? Thanks,” The bartender presented the curly-haired singer with the menu and a water. “Where is everyone?”</p><p>“My boys are upstairs eating pizza and watching porn I think. I just wanted something green.”</p><p>“Your boys, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah, they're like my kids.” Finn rolled her eyes, as a text from Brian came in. She was vaguely aware that Kiichi was placing an order as she read and answered the text in a stream of rapid-fire tapping.</p><p>‘Hey babe, might not call tonight.’</p><p>‘Go get busy,’</p><p>‘Miss you,’</p><p>‘Miss you too babe. She blonde?’</p><p>‘Pink.’</p><p>‘Fuck it up Bri.’</p><p>Finn flipped her phone over on the bar, leaning away with her arms braced against the cool granite bar top as she shook her hair off her back. God it was hot in this god-forsaken state.</p><p>“Trouble in paradise, kid?” She must have been looking upset, she realized as he rubbed her back with a meaty fist.</p><p>“Eh, it’s not trouble. Seeing as it's my schtick. I just haven't been able to take advantage of it like he has.” Finn made eye contact with the bartender as he retrieved her salad. “Can I have two red headed sluts?”</p><p>“That a shot? Is one of those for me?” Finn rolled her eyes and attacked her salad, trying to make a bit of a dent before the shots came. “You haven't been able to take advantage of what?”</p><p>Finn ignored him for a moment as she wolfed down part of her greens, paying special attention to the vegetables in the dish. The bartender presented Kiichi with a sandwich and set both of the shots in front of her. She pushed one towards the gangly singer with one black-nailed finger.</p><p>“Slainte.”</p><p>He picked up the shot with an eyebrow raised and tossed it back with the lavender-haired guitarist. To his credit, he didn't even cough.</p><p>“Alright, kid, take advantage of what?”</p><p>“You're four years older than me, you can't call me kid,”</p><p>“Fine, Finn.”</p><p>“So it's kinda like your free pass. Brian and I have an agreement. I'm just bitter because I've been too fucking busy to take advantage.” She recalled the story Brian had told about being on tour with Trivium in Japan and cited if to the singer.</p><p>“Uh?” Kiichi shoved a forkful of salad in his mouth, obviously as ravenous as she was. But in his haste to eat he seemed to miss the point. The man was 100 miles per hour all the time, though, so she couldn't be surprised. “I don't get it. Like my free pass?”</p><p>“Kinda? We get to fuck whoever we want as long as there's no emotional attachment.”</p><p>“That doesn't sound like my agreement at all,”</p><p>“Huh.”</p><p>“Yeah, mines more of a quid pro quo. I do she can. Vice versa.”</p><p>“Interesting,” Finn ordered another shot as she finished off her salad, sighing. “I don't have a problem with it, I just feel like since he's established it's so much easier. Women throw themselves at him. I don’t have time to get out there and look like I used to.”</p><p>“I mean, you're rising. That's true. But I just think you need to look around, Finn. Plenty of guys throw themselves at you,”</p><p>“Oh yeah? How do you know?”</p><p>“Because I have,” Startled, Finn looked up at the singer in shock at his frank admission. “Well, Brian has always been around. But I've hit on you hard. How did you even win that competition anyway?”</p><p>Oh, the infamous tour competition. Finn sighed, pushing her plate away so she could pick up her shot. She was losing her edge, that was for sure, she mused as she turned her shot glass in her fingertips. That or they were both getting older, and didn’t have time for the tete-a-tete of small talk.</p><p>“I'm too sober for this discussion,” She murmured, still studying the glass.</p><p>“Me too.” She wasn't shocked to see he had finished off his plate - she was a slow eater. The edge of his glass clinked on hers. “Do you want to come smoke with me?”</p><p>“I didn't know you liked cigarettes,” Singers often didn't - Tor, for instance, didn't usually smoke because he needed to preserve his voice.</p><p>“I'm inviting you upstairs for a few hits. I mean, you can have a cig if you want.”</p><p>Finn glanced around the bar - like anyone's presence mattered anyway - and sighed again, looking up at the singer with an eyebrow raised.</p><p>“I'm down. You have a smoking room then?” Texas was one of the few interesting states that still allowed smoking indoors. At first, Finn had thought it grody, until she was too hungover to get downstairs for a cigarette one morning while on tour.</p><p>“Yep.” He threw down cash on the table - more than enough to cover the food and drinks. She tried to make him take it back but he refused.</p><p>Finn sat on the edge of his hotel bed with her feet tucked under her, boots abandoned at the door with his shoes, watching as he expertly packed a bowl on the hotel desk. She fiddled with the remote in her hand, settling on the Lord of the Rings trilogy as Kiichi sat next to her on the bed. He sparked up the first hit, taking a deep breath before he passed the bowl to her. She contemplated turning it down for a moment, but two shots in and she was already susceptible to peer pressure. The lavender-haired guitarist took a hit, holding it in under a little cough as she passed the bowl back to the singer.</p><p>“Nice piece,” She murmured, analyzing the bowl as it came back to her, her fingers brushing against Kiichi’s. She took a breath to cash the bowl, and held it in her fingertips, inspecting it as she held the hit in her lungs. It was a deep blue spun with gold, extremely interesting to her almost-high brain.</p><p>“Want another one?”</p><p>“If you're offering,” With a wry grin, he got off the bed and moved to pack it. “I won't need much more.”</p><p>“Small bowl.”</p><p>He settled back beside her, turned halfway with one foot curled underneath his body as he took the first hit, his lungs expanding massively under his cut-off t-shirt, and reached out for her head. His first and middle fingers touched the underside of her chin, and she let him guide her lips to his for a long shotgun. His lips were fuller than Brian's, softer, and she found herself leaning into his chest as she held the hit, her tongue still exploring his mouth. Finally, they had to part to breathe and take another breath each. Finn gazed up at the singer under her long eyelashes, chewing her lip thoughtfully until he leaned into her again for a long kiss without the excuse of a shotgun.</p><p>She had to stop herself comparing him to Haner - that wasn't the point of their agreement, she told herself firmly as the singer guided their bodies up the bed. He reached to place the bowl on the nightstand and she ran her fingers up his abs to help relieve him of his shirt, which he pulled over his head quickly so he could fix his lips back onto hers. She barely had time to appreciate his tattoos - or tattoo, rather - as their bodies met.</p><p>Findlay let her mind wander as he melted on top of her, holding his chest up with one elbow for a better angle. His free hand ran over her hip bones, as she pulled his lips to hers by his thick curls with greedy fingers.</p><p>She let her fingers run down his abs, coveting the spaces between each defined muscle. He pulled her shirt up over her chest, over her head, and he kissed down her neck as he figured out the clasp of her bra with his free hand. Fuck, he was smooth. Finn inspected his tattoos as he made himself familiar with her chest, teasing at her nipples with those supple lips.</p><p>The curly-haired singer continued his path down her flat stomach, holding her body to his by the small of her back. She let her hips buck against his chest as he kissed the space above her shorts, fiddling with the button before he dragged them down her hips, his breath hot against the skin above her thong. She always wore thongs, force of habit to avoid underwear lines.</p><p>Kiichi drew up and away from her to pull her jean shorts off her broad hips, his lips tantalizing on the sensitive skin pulled taut between her hip bones. He didn't ask about the scars, just let his lips fall across them on their way down between her legs. His green eyes were closed as his tongue pressed against her clit, teasing her gently. Her head fell between her shoulders as he kissed his way back up between her legs, up her chest.</p><p>As his lips fell against her chin, Finn reached for the button of his jeans, pulling on it and unzipping his pants in one fluid motion. He gave her a hand, freeing himself from his jeans.</p><p>“Shit,” Finn gazed at the size of him, genuinely shocked as he searched for the condom in his back pocket. He had swiped it from the desk when he refilled the bowl, she realized as he shucked off his jeans so he could push her knees up toward her elbows with his.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“What am I supposed to do with that?” She murmured with a laugh, reveling as he rubbed the condom-covered head of it against her.</p><p>“I'm not asking you to suck it,” Came the insolent reply, his grin broad as he focused on her face with a hand braced on her thigh.</p><p>“Thank god for that,” She managed as he held her legs apart, watching her with a quirked eyebrow. “What?”</p><p>“Just waiting for the go ahead,”</p><p>“Damn it Kiichi,” She leaned her head back for a glorious moment, with him pressed hard against her, ready to push inside. “Yes, fuck yes.”</p><p>Finn's head popped up in shock as he pressed slowly into her - even though she knew the motion tightened her muscles around him she couldn't help it.</p><p>“Oh, shit Finn,” He pressed his hand into her hips to try to relax her grip against him. “Fuck, relax,”</p><p>“God damn it Kiichi, a little warning would have been… nice…” She sighed as she relaxed enough for him to push down into her, surrendering underneath his hips as he pushed further into her. Fuck, he was huge. She had to concentrate to relax enough for him to press himself inside of her, especially as his lips settled on hers again, his arms pulling her to his chest. It seemed like an oxymoron - the necessity to concentrate to relax.</p><p>Finn sighed lustfully as his fingers found her clit, rubbing gently as he pushed into her as if he knew he needed to tease her into it. He murmured her name as he began to slowly thrust against her - too deeply.</p><p>“Fuck, Kiichi, wait,” Her fingers found his hips, trying to hold him tightly to her body. “Fucking damn it,”</p><p>“Sorry, Finn, I can stop,”</p><p>“Fuck no!” She grabbed hard onto his hips as he tried to pull away from her, and he settled back into her slowly, his lips on hers. “I just need to adjust,”</p><p>Silently, he kissed her as he rubbed against her with his fingers, tantalizing her to relax and open up to him. After a few quiet minutes, she murmured his name, and he began to slowly thrust into her, pulling almost all the way out before he crammed himself back in.</p><p>He pulled her chest to his, one hand between her shoulder blades and the other under her hip for support. Findlay found herself wrapping her legs around his hips, locking her feet behind his back as her lips searched for his. She couldn't help but moan as he pushed deeper and deeper inside her, wondering how she could accommodate him while surrendering herself to the pleasure of his company.</p><p>The singer pressed her back into the bed, his hands pinning her hips to the comforter as he thrust. Finn moaned as he found a rhythm, pushing against the sweet spot with long thrusts. Swearing, the grey-haired guitarist wrapped her fingers around the back of his head to pull his lips to hers.</p><p>On some level, she was still thinking about Brian, and she was going to have to unpack those thoughts later. There was no time between Kiichi’s luxurious thrusts as he found his finish, guiding her past hers.</p><p>Until he stopped short, buried deeply inside her. But the look on his face didn't mirror the ecstasy she felt. It took her a second to come down from her cloud to reality and realize why he was concerned.</p><p>“Oh, fuck, did that just -”</p><p>“I'm pretty sure it broke,” He pulled out of her slowly with his hand at the base of his dick, as if going slowly might help the situation. “Fuck,”</p><p>The grey-haired guitarist propped herself up to watch as he pulled out, revealing a basically shredded condom. She growled a vulgar swear, laying her head back on the comforter. It had felt too good to be true.</p><p>“Do we need to go get something?”</p><p>“Not unless you’re carrying something,” Every fucking time. At least with Kiichi she knew it wasn’t on purpose - there was no way he had broken a condom on purpose.. Or had he?</p><p>“What do you mean?” He paused, seeming to think for a moment before he added, “I don’t want to sound accusatory, but I don’t want baby Heafys, Findlay.”</p><p>“Yeah that can’t happen,”</p><p>“Does that mean you need something?” He was obviously itching to drag her down for some Plan B, doubting her. The lanky singer must have been burned before, she thought absently, staring at the ceiling.</p><p>“No, I mean it literally can’t happen, Kiichi,” She finally looked him in the eyes, her mouth set in a firm line. “I’m barren,”</p><p>It was easier than explaining the whole thing, but she watched the realization dawn on the lanky man as he figured it out, looking down at her scars in wonder. As she watched him, she realized he wasn’t just looking at her scars, he was looking at all of her in awe.</p><p>“So we could go withou -”</p><p>“Nope. That’s one of the rules, Kiichi,” She murmured, a hand on his hip to hold him away from her. He had already started the motion as she was telling him about her inability to have children, ready to thrust back inside her with reckless abandon. In his defense, he did back off immediately. “I’ll take you again, but you’ll have to find another condom.”</p><p>His body left hers for a moment and she listened to him pace across the room for a second before he pulled her face to his, roughly. “Fuck, I’d love to have you again but I don’t have another condom,”</p><p>“Nice try, Matthew,” She teased, a sterner edge to her voice than she had thought. The grey-haired guitarist knew she would never be able to face her lover in good conscience again if she broke the rules she had made. That didn’t stop her from reaching up for his lips as he rolled on the second condom.</p><p>She sighed as he sunk into her again.</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck that stings,”</p><p>“Well there's not much I can do about that, Finn,” Her brother murmured, running a soapy wash cloth over the set of deep furrows in her back. “Maybe don't fuck wolverine and you won't get yourself in trouble like this.”</p><p>“Fuck,”</p><p>She hadn't realized the scratches were so deep until she went to leave Kiichi’s room in the early morning light and saw the faint lines of blood on the hotel's white sheets. Luckily it was only the one set of three - she had told him off after that. To be fair, they had both been caught up in the moment.</p><p>Finn had wandered back to the room she shared with her twin, had a shower, and walked out of the bathroom to a piercing, grey-eyed stare. As if wherever she had been was somehow verboten in his mind. Tor accepted his twin and her romantic idiosyncrasies, but it didn’t mean he had to like them.</p><p>“Maybe they'll heal before Rock am Ring?”</p><p>Her twin shot her a level look in the mirror, reaching to rinse off the cloth.</p><p>“Not a chance in hell. You'd be lucky if these are gone in two weeks. One of them goes right through your flowers.”</p><p>“God damn it.”</p><p>“Who were you with last night, Finn?” He asked idly. If anyone didn't care, it was her brother, who was probably only upset because he would have appreciated knowing if the room was going to be free.</p><p>“Ugh. I shouldn't say.” Tot pressed the cloth into her cut viciously, an eyebrow raised. “Oh fuck you Tor. I was with Kiichi.”</p><p>“Trivium, really? Isn't he married?”</p><p>“He and his wife have a thing. But don't go spreading that around regardless.”</p><p>“Really, Finn? You think I would spread your business around? You're really suspicious today.”</p><p>“Sorry, Tor. It's the first time I got to take advantage of Bri’s and my agreement. I'm not sure why I picked him.”</p><p>“Because he's attractive? That's the best I can do, kiddo.” He set the wash cloth down on the sink, patting her back. “You should be glad we performed yesterday not today. This would sting like the devil.”</p><p>“Yeah well. What do we do today?” She asked, pulling her shirt firmly over her shoulders so she could focus on her makeup.</p><p>“I was gonna watch a few shows. Flight out is at 11 tonight.”</p><p>“I fucking hate red eyes.” Finn murmured, her hand braced on the countertop as she flicked a cat eye over her eyelids.</p><p>“Yeah well. Loverboy will be on the other end.”</p><p>“Somehow, I don’t think he’s going to be thrilled with these.” She shrugged her shoulder for emphasis, deciding to skip lipstick for the day. “I’m going to go down for some yoga and breakfast.”</p><p>“Are you ok to walk that far? You look like you’re limping a bit there, sis.”</p><p>“He was very well endowed.” Finn grabbed her phone and room key, praying there was a yoga mat downstairs in the hotel gym. And that the gym wouldn’t be packed.</p><p>“Ok, I could have lived without that,”</p><p>Grinning, Finn slipped into the hall and down to the meager gym she had spied earlier. There were no mats, but the floor was made of a springy, spongy material that she appreciated as she bent for a sun salutation, ignoring the gaze of a bearded metalhead on the treadmill as she began to work through a fairly aggressive flow. She recognized his face tattoo as belonging to Brent from Mastodon, but had never formally met the man so chose to focus on her yoga. Her hips were killing her.</p><p>A hand on the small of her back startled her out of her zone, a pair of fingers ran up her spine from between her shoulder blades. Finn shivered and almost jumped out of downward dog.</p><p>“How are you feeling today?” It was Kiichi.</p><p>“You assist?” She asked the ground, lifting a leg into three legged dog. She took his grunt to mean he did and started to flow again, ignoring his practiced hands as he deepens her poses. “I've felt better. Pretty sore.”</p><p>She didn't need to hear his chuckle to know he was grinning at her as she pressed into a forearm stand with his hand on the front of her thigh to catch her if she wobbled. She was proud when she didn't and smoothly lowered her toes to the ground.</p><p>“You?” She asked the singer as she flowed into tree pose through a series of warriors.</p><p>“Pretty good, actually. I don't have to endure so many demands physically, though,”</p><p>“You're welcome,” Finn murmured, shooting a glance over at the man on the treadmill. He had headphones in. “You should warn a girl, you know,” She murmured at the grinning guitarist as she flowed through Vinyasa again with an elbow on either side of her hips - he pulled back her hips smoothly.</p><p>“Seems a little presumptuous, no?” He held her hips for a second longer than he needed to, his fingers lingering on the bruises. “Maybe you’re just used to below-average equipment,”</p><p>She snorted at his quip, flowing up through a sequence of warriors to end up in a bird of paradise pose, toes flexed. Still behind her, Kiichi slid his palm along her leg to lengthen it, revolving her shoulder with the other hand to flatten her body. The grey-haired guitarist wobbled, but breathed through the pose until he let her foot return to the earth. She was conscious of the bearded man's eyes on her, watching the pair like a hawk in the mirror, but couldn't find it within herself to give a fuck.</p><p>“I doubt that, Kiichi. Don’t you have a show to do today?” Finn asked, stretching her opposite leg back into Warrior three.</p><p>“I’ve got a lot of time before that to get a workout in,” The guitarist raised her eyebrows at him in the mirror, glancing purposefully at the other guitarist pacing on the treadmill. “Care to join?”</p><p>“I’m still sore from my workout yesterday,” She breathed as she shifted into a standing split. His hand on her calf pushed her leg higher. “Heafy,” Her breath was a warning as his hand slid a little too low on her leg. It would have been fine if they had been alone. It wasn’t that she was worried about anything getting back to Brian it was the fact that the bearded guitarist on the treadmill could say anything to anyone else he encountered. The rumors were often more vicious than the fact of her life.</p><p>And yet, after all of that, the grey-haired guitarist still ended up back in Kiichi’s bed for a second workout.</p>
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